Never pick a fight with Gina Radioli

......I probably should have warned the guy. But it’s not like he really picked a fight insomuch as he simply said the wrong thing at the wrong time in front of her, which isn’t all that difficult to do. But, in essence, it’s the same thing as picking a fight with Gina Radioli.

Okay, here’s the deal. Gina and I went shopping at a grocery store near my house that is not exactly known for their selection. Don’t get me wrong, it’s a fine grocery store. ‘Fine’ meaning serviceable. ‘Serviceable’ meaning that one could get the majority of the things one might need in one location at any time of day. Convenience was one of their strong suits. Service and product options were not. If you asked a clerk for espresso powder, they would lead you to the coffee isle, hold up a jar of Folger’s Crystals and proudly say, “Here you go!” and then walk away, completely oblivious to the fact that they had no idea as to what you were actually talking about.

“Why do you even shop here?” Gina said incredulously. “They don’t have arborio rice. They don’t have polenta. They don’t have…...”

“Gina!” I interrupted. “Sometimes you just need eggs, flour and milk. You get in, you get out and you’re on your way!”


“But the EXPERIENCE of it all is so important! It’s how you feel when you walk the aisles”

And actually, I agreed with her. Grocery shopping had long taken the place of dating in my life, and oddly, I was becoming very comfortable with it. But the experience is important, and my local grocery store did not make me swoon. If shopping at this particular grocery store were to be compared to a dating experience, it would be like taking your third cousin to prom: the familiarity is nice, but you know a great deal of exploring is not going to happen.


Anyway, here’s where it all hit the fan. We were walking towards the deli and we overheard a young woman ask a clerk, “What’s the difference between Parmesan and this….” struggling with the pronunciation……”Parmigiano-Reggiano”


“Oh, nothing,” the clerk said, “they’re all the same.”

He shouldn’t have said that.

Gina was already in a mood and before I could intervene, Gina’s head snapped around like it had been attached to a lawn mower start cord and someone just pulled that handle.

 “What do you mean ‘they’re all the same’?” Gina said.


 .......oh, here we go......

To be continued......