28 - Twenty dwarfs at the supermarket.
joneworlds@mailbox.org

I was back at the  Save-Mor the other day for some
groceries. And I  go as early as I  can, because I
like  getting that  stuff  out of  the  way of  my
day.     So      I'm     pushing      down     the
dairy-and-frozen-foods  isle, and  I kid  you not,
there  are  like  20   dwarfs  crammed  in  there.
They're all  like huddled  around the  shelf where
the cheese is, taking one down, passing it around,
sort of  murmuring to each other  in their serious
way. It's always  like this with them  - they have
to do  everything in  big groups.   I never  saw a
dwarf do anything by  itself.  And granted, a gang
of them can  strip down a whole car to  parts in 5
minutes, but they're taking 15 minutes to pick out
a piece of  mozzarella.  I just don't  get it. And
later it's  the same  thing with the  canned fish,
and the  crackers, and  the potatoes.  And  I feel
like  I'm just  hustling around  the place  to get
what I can before  the dwarf conference blocks the
way  again.  I've  tried saying  excuse me  in the
past, but I don't any more. Have you ever seen the
look you get, times 20, when you interrupt a dwarf
discussion?  You'd think  I  had spat  on them  or
something.   Whatever,   I'll  just   eat  pickles
instead.  You never interrupt a dwarf.