I’m thinking my special place in Hell might not be so readily available…or special…after all. Instead, I just may find myself dumped in some remote dungeon in a far off corner of that swinging hotbed of afterlife whimsy. I mean, I bet even Satan doesn’t want Grammar Nazis cluttering up the place, even — or perhaps, especially — if they are of the “sarcastic asshole” variety. Can you imagine being annoying enough to piss off the Devil and have him just wash his hands of you? My mother claims that if anyone has that innate ability, it would indeed be me.
So, this corner mart is in my hometown. Not far from the house where I grew up actually. I’m just so proud of my old neighborhood and what it’s become. Now I’m not normally one to go around policing everyone’s spelling or grammar, but seriously!? Come on people, get your act together. The sign’s been there at least two years. All I can think of is this: Has no one brought it to the store owner’s attention? Surely there are less socially awkward people than me out there who are brave enough to come forward and let him or her know. Or is it a purposeful thing? Is it some kind of secret code? And if it is, for what exactly? Bad spellers anonymous?
As it is, every time my daughter and I visit my parents, we point to it and smile, our individual, internal spell checkers on alert and for some reason, amused.