I spent a good portion of my time at work on Friday pondering my movements for the evening (while still working; I have that kind of a job). I wanted to go to Hannaford, I wanted to go to the liquor store, I definitely wanted to walk my dog. Then the title “Walking with a Nefarious Purpose” came to me, and there was no looking back. Tabby and I were walking to the liquor store (see, I have a hard time with titles; when I think of one I like, I go with it).
Longtime readers may recall some months ago I wrote a post titled “Walking with a Purpose,” in which Steven and I walked our dog Tabby to Hannaford. Steven and Tabby waited outside while I went in and made our purchases. Steven was still at work, so he could not aid me in my purposes, nefarious or otherwise. However, I thought I could get away with taking my dog into the liquor store briefly.
I feel I am being a little silly even calling it a nefarious purpose. I was not purchasing alcohol for minors in order to corrupt their morals. I just wanted to enjoy a glass of white wine and maybe cook with it. I actually had it in my head to purchase a box o’ wine (the crowd I used to run with always referred to it as “box o’ wine,” studiously leaving off the “f”). For one thing, box o’ preserves the wine better if you don’t intend to drink it all in a short time. For another, I had discovered a flavor I liked.
Off we went. It was a lovely afternoon for a walk, not too cold, no precipitation. Ramar’s Liquors, where I intended to go, is a fairly short walk from my house. We were two blocks away from it when Tabby tried to make a left and head in another direction. I convinced her otherwise, but she tried again at the next corner. I hoped she would not insist. I can usually win an argument of this sort with a 17 pound dog, but I am not here to torture my poocher. I want us both to enjoy the stroll.
The box I wanted was right inside the door. Excellent! The lady at the register did not seem to mind my pooch being there. I had brought a reusable bag to carry my purchase. For one thing it had longer straps I thought I could put on one shoulder.
Tabby was happy to head in the direction of home. So was I, although it did seem to take a longer time. Maybe a small bottle would have been better. Or I could have taken Tabby for a walk and driven to the liquor store later. As the ever-heavier box bumped against my hip, I was only thankful it was not beer. I pictured opening a can of beer that had bounced on my hip for ten minutes and wondered if that would be a fun thing to do at my next party. I was just kidding, of course; I don’t have college-flavored parties any more.
The walk home was not really bad, but I thought it would make a better blog post if I suffered a little. For those of you with nefarious purposes of your own, Ramar’s is located at 104 N. Caroline St., Herkimer, NY, 315-866-9897,