An encounter with (modern) gawd

It was a horrible rainy, grey and freezing day outside, which meant an indoors day for me. Move over, Queen Jaffa, and get used to my company for the day.

I pottered about all morning, constantly doing things, but the kind of little things that you have nothing to show for at the end of your time. Soon enough however, the doorbell rang - the delivery guys were here with the new bed. The new bed! I was beside myself with excitement.

Of course, QJ, lapped up all the petting the two delivery guys were willing to bestow upon her, but then decided she didn't actually like the bed. It didn't have the corner that she used to always scratch, and no amount of me explaining about the wood and colour and other fun features was improving the situation. She wasn't having any of it with this new bed. A bit ironic because she's the reason we bought the thing in the first place. But oh well, there's cats for you.

By afternoon, the steady rain had turned into snow. The yucky, sleety, psuedo-snow that instantly melts as soon as it touches anything. But snow all the same, and after all it was the first snow of the year, so I decided to emerge from my hibernation and give the world outside a peek. Strategically accoutered in all kinds of protective gear, I headed downstairs to take a tentative step outside the building (Derek the doorman looked at me like I was mad, and although he's too polite to say anything, his eyes popping out of his head said it all).

I walked around the neighbourhood for a bit, savouring the first snowfall of the year, and then dropped in to the supermarket on my way back. QJ was running low on catfood, so I needed to pick up a can or two. Ungrateful cat though she be, didn't seem reason enough to starve her.

I had just picked up the catfood when I heard a loud voice booming right behind me.
"WOULD YOU LIKE SOME ADVICE?"
I jumped out of my skin and almost dropped all the catfood on the floor (I'm the kind of person that doesn't take a basket because I think I'm only picking up one thing, but then one thing leads to another and before I know it my arms are precariously juggling cans and bottles and packets and vegetables of all sorts).

So when the voice startled me, I nearly dropped everything to the floor. I spun around in alarm, but there was nobody there. Looked up and down the aisle, but I was all alone. But the voice had been real. Very, disturbingly, real.

G-g-gawd?

I thought stammeringly, looking upwards.

But (as usual) it wasn't gawd. It was a hidden microphone with a motion sensor, that activated when I passed. Yet another triumph of modernisation. So I walked back to the spot where I'd been before I jumped out of my skin (there was my skin, still lying on the floor where it fell off. Felt pretty good to put it back on).

"WOULD YOU LIKE SOME ADVICE?" the voice boomed again. Curious, I listened on. Turned out to be an add for some drug or another (probably to cure depression or ED, if I'd stayed to listen).

Man, I'm ok (kind of) with advertising and all, but do we have to scare the bejeezus out of me?