Wet Floor

It is a little-known, but well-evidenced, fact that I live next to the crappiest Giant in the county. The produce is always mostly rotted or not even remotely ripe, the shelves are rarely stocked, the deli workers are surly, and the fish section is completely gone. However, the geniuses reached a new low last weekend.

I was making a mad dash last Saturday to get the makings of the cake I had to bake for this year's Annual August Birthday Bash (you'll remember last year's, I'm sure). I hadn't showered, but had merely thrown on enough clothing so as to not terrify small children and/or lose time by being thrown in the clink for indecent exposure. In short, a ratty tee, handy jeans, and my cheapo flip-flops. I'm not looking my best, but I'm going to dash in and out and attract no attention.

I'm burning through the produce section when I see a Wet Floor sign in my path. Well I'm not going to go halfway across the store to avoid a patch that may or may not actually be wet (those signs tend to stay out long after the floor is dry, or maybe that was just a convenient place to stash the sign so they didn't have to walk all the way back to the storage room), but I do take care to tread a little more carefully.

All for naught, as it seems. The next thing I know, I'm skating across linoleum, sliding down the sign, and landing heavily on my hip. (My self-defense teacher would have been proud of the landing at least.) Fear not, Rosie Fans, I received only scratches and a couple of ugly bruises, nothing serious. Shaken but not stirred, I get up, dust myself off, collect the scattered shards of my dignity, and continue on, brushing off the entourage of stockers who are now asking me in every breath, "Are you OK? Are you sure?," though until this point, they were passively stocking squashed tomatoes or rock-hard peaches or whatever.

First, my little stocker people, get the manager and have them have me sign a waiver so I won't sue your asses.

Next, this could all have been avoided. I recall clearly from my food service days that the Wet Floor sign is not an idle warning. It does not absolve the sign placer of liability when a person breaks into impromptu Ice Capades. Rather than a mere CYA or Caveat Emptor notification, its purpose is to alert passersby to the presence of a slippery substance in their path WHILE YOU ARE IN THE BACK, GETTING THE MOP OR PAPER TOWELS TO REMOVE THE LIQUID ON SAID FLOOR. Instead of getting such a drying material, you just put out the sign and proceeded to go about your business. Responsible of you.

I will say, however, that it was with amusement as I walked away that I noted the stockers now scurrying to find some rags to put down.