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I was in my local Harris Teeter grocery store the other day and something caught my eye.

Holy crap! St. Elmo’s is one of my favorite restaurants in the country, and one of the reasons is its renown cocktail sauce. This is . . . .

Wait a second! There’s no cocktail sauce here!

But that’s not all. I work with a title company, which is basically an insurance agent for insurance related to real property ownership. We have an underwriter, and they sent us holiday treats. However, very few of us were interested in anything beyond the one package of chocolate truffles.

It’s a lot of stuff, but this is representative of the majority of it:

Artichokes? Who are they? My mother? It is the kind of thing she’d torture me with, so that checks out.

This is where you say, “Awwwwwww. Poor Rob.”

First world problems.

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