Sometimes it's hard to be me . . .

The "Kikita's Alone in Florida" saga continues . . .

After the Chinese food debacle (ok, so I should have known better, but I'd been traveling all day and I was tired), I decided my first order of business should be to venture out and find the nearest grocery store, preferably Publix.  This choice came primarily because after dinner last night all I wanted was chocolate and there was none to be had, but does it really matter why I made the choice?  No, it doesn't.

The point is, I needed mass quantities of chocolate and I needed it fast . . .
Boy, did I get more than I bargained for!

After a careful study of the maps in my room, I found the nearest grocery store WAS, in fact, PUBLIX!  HOORAY!!

I waited out the multiple downpours, then finally escaped (and by that time I was hungry again).  After a couple of wrong turns, I found Publix.  I was so delirious to have found it, I couldn't really remember why I had needed it so badly the night before.  I was kind of disoriented and not sure what to do, but not wanting to look like I didn't know what I was doing there, I grabbed a cart and started walking down the first aisle I saw . . . it happened to be the BABY aisle.  Remembering previous trips to other Publix (one located somewhere off of Flagler), I thought I might score some Royal Violetas . . . I thought wrong.  Now I was really feeling out of my element, so I just started cruising with my empty cart hoping inspiration would hit.

Well, before inspiration hit, my first dose of "chocolate" did, in the form of the guy stocking the fruit.
"Hey sweetheart, how you doing?" asked the 16yr old child in front of me.  I was SO NOT READY for this.  It takes a lot for a male to render me speechless, and this kid did.  I smiled and kept walking.  Luckily, I walked right into the bakery section.  And after a careful search I found pastelitos, and my world was on its way to being balanced again . . . UNTIL . . . I caught another mocha-choca-latte mister ogling me from behind the counter.  I dove down another aisle.  Yes!  Bottled water!  Just what I need!

Shoot!  Another stalker stocker!  Smiling at me!

(You must understand, I am all for smiling back and being polite - especially if he's cute, but nothing about the way these people were smiling at me inspired neighborly feelings)

I grabbed the water and kept walking, towards another counter with another set of chocolate eyes.  It was as if Stocker #1 had radio-ed everyone in the store to say, "Alert! Alert! Blondie with Booty! Aisle 7!"

Perhaps you think I'm kidding, but my antennas were up and I noticed the managers being extra friendly towards me and accidentally being in every other aisle I walked down.  Coincidence?  I think not!

WHERE, OH WHERE, WAS THE REAL CHOCOLATE?!?!?  (or at least a real Cuban to smile back at?)

I went up and down every aisle and was about to give in and speak to one of my many admirers when . . . there. it. was.  In the exact place where I'd started.  The chocolate I'd been looking for was in the BABY aisle and I'd missed it!

I found an IRISH bar across the street...so sad it wasn't Cuban.
I know, I'm in serious trouble.  I've been here for over 24 hours and I haven't had a Cuban ANYTHING!
Sometimes, it's hard to be me!