We’ve made a few recipes lately that called for (ideally) parchment paper or (less ideally) a greased and floured pan. Since the latter turned out to be horrifically messy, we decided to try the parchment paper. I was in Earth Fare today picking up a few things for another recipe and was pleased to find they had parchment paper as well, and an eco-friendly kind at that.

As I picked up the box, the end flew open and the paper shot out like it had just been lauched from a rocket, bounced off the cleaning supplies on the opposite side of the aisle, and landed on the floor. I caught it before it unravelled, but I was already laden with a red pepper, my reusable bags, a bag of mushrooms, and a can of olives so I didn’t make much headway with getting it under control. There was frantic juggling of all above items, some swearing under my breath, and the roll sailed gleefully in a different direction across the aisle. I put down all the other items and recaptured it; by now it had unfurled somewhat and expanded to about twice it’s previous size. It had no intention of going back to it’s box prison and escaped me a third time.

By now the muttering under my breath was maybe not so much under my breath, and I lunged after the offending paper, managed to sort-of roll it back together, and stuffed it back in the box.  It didn’t really fit, and now stuck out about 6″ from the end of the box. Surprisingly, no one in the crowded store had witnessed the drama unfolding. Or maybe anyone who did fled quickly. For a split second I contemplated gently setting it down on the paper towel display and tiptoeing quietly away from the scene, but that seemed wrong — even if it wasn’t my fault the end of the box wasn’t glued. So off to the checkout went the parchment and I.

Checkout clerk (as he gets to the mangled box of parchment): “Uh…did you see–”

Me: “I did it. There was a large fight with the box and I lost. I didn’t want to be that person who makes a mess and then runs away and leaves it.”

Checkout clerk: “Oh… well thanks, but really we can get you a new box, we don’t mind. It looks like it was defective.”

Me: “That’s OK, I don’t want to waste it. And besides, it’s actually become a personal vendetta between me and that box.  I plan on continuing the battle at home.  Oh, and check your security camera for that aisle later; I’m sure I provided lots of entertainment.”

The clerk laughs a bit uncertainly, and finishes ringing up the stuff as I bag it. As I started to walk away after he handed me my receipt and I thanked him, he called after me, “Good luck with your fight with the parchment paper — I hope you win!”