Don't Know Jack

Each Girls Night Out (GNO), my dear friend, Claire Dunphy brings chips and salsa. Specifically, baked Tostitos and the world's greatest salsa ever manufactured this side of the Chimichangian border. 


And, like a moth to a flame, I Kobiashi almost the whole thing myself. I can forgo the cookies, the cheese and crackers and any kind of "I saw this in Southern Living and thought I would try it. Can you believe it only has 10 sticks of butter?" But the chips and salsa, they call my name. 


Finally, I asked Claire what kind of salsa it was. If you recall, I am not the most strong willed person when it comes to abstaining from delicious treats. Therefore, I feared that if I knew the origin, I may just be buying this for myself on a thrice- weekly basis. But I had to know. It was killing me. What if Claire moved away without me ever knowing? How would I ever find that Heavenly salsa again!?!?!!??!


She told me the brand name and the exact coordinates in Kroger where I could find it. Now all I needed was a reason to buy it...


So, I made one up. And off to Kroger I headed. 


I am not going to say that the Kroger company has asked me NOT to bring my kid with me, but let's say she doesn't love the overall experience of "Krogering" just yet. But I knew this was a really quick in and out trip, so she could manage. I had a quick list and about 900 goldfish as bait; she would be fine.  I walked in and to the exact place where Claire had told me the salsa would be. I figured the light shining down from Heaven would also help guide me. 


No salsa. 


Claire had told me the brand name, which I knew was Nick's. I saw El this and La that, but no Nick's. There was no Nick's. I broke out into a cold sweat. Frantically, I ran to seek help. An older gentleman came over to help me with my search. We plowed through the specialty salsa. "Was it Picante" he asked. Picante, I thought. Are you out of your freaking mind? This is SPECIAL salsa. It is with the fancy cheese. Get it together, man. 


No Nick's. I was devastated. Sweet B was not helping, but rather getting fussy. Could I go to another Kroger? Should I call around? Is this something I can order in volume and have sent directly to my house so that this never happens again?  Could I find this Nick and marry him and become some sort of salsa heiress and live in a world where I would never be without Nick's salsa again? 


"Oh, here is Jack's salsa. Is that it" asked my helper.


"Yes, Jack's. That's what I said." 


Jack's salsa. It's called Jack's. Like as in "Jack Ass blonde freaking out over by the fancy cheese and the Jack's salsa."

Photo: 1cupawesome.com