Potatoes

So I’m parking my Merry mobile at the gym this morning and this time I was parked between a sporty BMW and another Lexus SUV.  The only reason my little ghetto mobile gets to go to LA Fitness is because my tiny gym, Express Fitness, went bankrupt and sold all of our gym memberships to LA Fitness and we get to go for the same monthly rate.  Pretty sweet deal.

Anyway, today I hop out of my car at 7am, hoping that I grabbed the right ear phones.  For some reason I have 3 sets of ear phones in my car and only one pair works.  The easiest solution would be to throw away the pairs that don’t work, but then I get worried that somehow I’ll accidently toss the pairs that do, and then I will be stuck with the ones that don’t work at all or the ones that play out of the left ear.  Today I grabbed the left ear ones.

So as I make my way into the gym I notice this beautiful cherry colored jaguar.  And then I noticed the woman coming out of it.  It is hard to tell how old she actually was because of all the plastic surgery but I’ll say 40-50.  She was wearing a diamond cougar necklace that could have been a jaguar.  I know the whole cougar thing, but I heard that jaguar is now the trendy word for feisty women and I don’t know the difference.  I do think eventually they will run out of cat names or at least cool sounding names.  I think the next one should be Liger.   If you are reading this and know the difference please comment.  Her ensemble was complete with Juicy Couture Workout Sweats.  She smiled at me and I’m guessing this is because I was staring at her.  As she got out I noitced something odd in her front seat.  It was something I would not expect a botoxed, Juicy Couture wearing Cougar/Jaguar to have…..

A giant bag of potatoes. Clearly they are not for her, because I’m pretty sure she doesn’t eat carbs.  Unless they are mashed up and served in a martini class.  Or maybe she makes homemade vodka with them.  Or was off to feed orphans.  Whatever the reason, I waited until she was inside and pretended to tie my shoes, then snapped this picture of her potato passenger.  Now I can understand if she had just stopped at the store to buy potatoes for some reason and then headed to the gym, but it was 7am and around these parts, i  don’t think you can go to a grocery store until 8am.  And I’m pretty sure, the gas station does not sell big bags of potaotes.

While I have a lot of theories, I would like to think that she takes the potatoes home and dresses them up.  That she tenderly glues wiggle eyes to each spud and makes little dresses for them.  Then lines them up on some ledge in her mansion house and calls them her babies.