Today I went to this giant liquor/beer/wine store near my house and wandered around for at least an hour with my friend as we pretended we were rich and needed 4 different types of champagnes and 3948390 types of liquor. It’s actually always been one of my favorite places to go, which makes me sound kinda like an alcoholic, but it’s not like that I promise. When I was little, I used to love going with Pops to pick out wine. We would go in armed with the names of a couple wines that Pops had picked out after extensive research. This place is literally like a warehouse, so running around trying to find a specific bottle was my favorite type of scavenger hut. When we were little, Tony had no patience for this sort of thing, so it was usually just me and my dad. A lot of my favorite memories with Pops involve me tagging along with him on some sort of errand. Wherever he had to go, I was usually willing to go along for the ride. On the way there we’d talk about music and listen to our favorite songs. Sometimes if we had extra time to kill we’d drive to West Chester and cruise through the fancy neighborhoods, discussing what kind of house we’d like to buy someday.
I didn’t realize until recently that we’ve kinda kept this tradition alive. Just last week, I rode along with Pops to Walmart in search of a new meter for his diabetes. We ended choosing wrong in the Checkout Lottery, and had to stand in line for 15 minutes as a poor frazzled worker had to call the manager over twice. On the way home, we talked about the kind of house me and Gabby are looking to rent, and jammed-out to “Come On Eileen.” I probably won’t remember this trip to Walmart ten years from now, but I’m glad I’ll always remember what it felt like going along for the ride.