Mercy

Hi All,

Let's talk about our mouse problem. You're not going to like this.

We're on the first floor of our building, adjacent to a vacant lot. For us and our neighbor Anaya, this means a steady stream of field mice sneaking into our homes. We've lived here for three years, and for three years we've dealt with mice.

Abby and I tried humane traps at first, those little snack motels with a door that gently closes behind each guest. Our friend Thomas told a sweet story on Insta about catching a mouse in one of these, then bringing it to the park. Very noble, very human.

Well our mice don't want to go in those boxes. They remained empty and untouched for weeks. Plus our building's pest control guy has only one tool: a canister of some mystery chemical he spritzes around the corners of the kitchen. "Is that stuff for mice, or just for bugs?" Shrug. Not much of a talker, our dude.

All this to say, we eventually turned to killing traps. After much research, we found a brutally efficient plastic kind you can buy in bulk from China. It's humane in its way, executing instantly and never leaving a mouse injured. ~SNAP~ and done. I've stopped counting, but I'd guess we've dispatched more than 20 mice since moving in.

I hate getting numb to slaughter. When I saw a sick little mouse wobbling across our entranceway this week, I immediately smashed it with a full Canada Dry can. I've had dreams about it ever since.

Did you know that Canada Dry was founded by a Toronto pharmacist in 1890, after he spent some time working in a Brooklyn seltzer factory? Or that the original logo was a beaver overlaid on a map of Canada?

I know some things about the Schweppes company too, but I didn't kill a mouse with a Schweppes can.

xo,

Jesse

Normally this wouldn't be a noteworthy item for The Haul. It's just peanut butter, who cares? But when we were buying this jar, some dude tried very hard to convince us not to. "Oh you're in for it now! I bought that stuff and brought it home—broke my knife trying to stir it! Bad stuff!" Then he tipped the jar to the side to show us the oil that gathered at the top: "See what I'm saying? No good."

We tried to be nice but there was a long line and the cashier seemed impatient and also we wondered if he simply wasn't accustomed to the torturous churning that natural peanut butter requires? We stubbornly made our purchase, smiling tightly the whole time. The guy's last words: "You're gonna remember me later!" Which is true.

I eat a lot of hot dogs, is the thing. Not every day, but close! The surplus grocer often carries fancy dog brands like Nathan's and Applegate Farms, so there's typically a few packs stashed in our freezer. As such, I need a utility bun, reliable and consistent, and Super Bread is the brand for me. I've never seen it carried at any other store, but it's always available here. The empty bags are also good for cat litter disposal.

I don't eat a lot of deli meat, but occasionally I'll impulsively grab some good-looking roast beef or turkey. This brand is pretty posh! But one time we got some sliced turkey at the surplus grocer that was a bit...off. (People ask if this is a common occurrence, and it really isn't.) It had a weirdly tangy aroma, so we fed it to Lola, who ate every slice with gusto.

This led to us writing a weird little folk song called "Lola Loves Her Stinky T." T stands for turkey. We spent a lot of time inside in the last two years.

I've been seeing loose chatter among online friends about this new product: "Nom nom I'd crush this stuff I'm trashy like that lol." That kind of thing. Here's what is weird: This product is a current novelty, a part of the 2022 Discourse—not some forgotten failure they're offloading for pennies.

So why is it there?? I've had this question about other high-demand commodities, like Oatly oat milk (remember the shortage?) or Olipop prebiotic soda. If it's not expired or damaged, why would it be at the surplus grocer? Mysteries abound.

What's with the sticker??