A Rose By Any Other Name

Many years ago, I strolled into a Manitoba restaurant with some co-workers, for breakfast and requested "Vi-co" from the waitress.  She laughed and balked, "Vodka.  For breakfast.  Yeah, right!"

Vi-Co was a term used exclusively in Saskatchewan in reference to the chocolate milk made by the Dairy Producers Company.  Everyone knew it was chocolate milk, but most still referred to it as Vi-Co.  I was never completely clear on what the name meant, entirely, but speculated that it simply referred to "Vitamins Contained".  Of course, I'm most likely mistaken about this.

In 1995, Dairy Producers was purchased by the Dairyland Corporation and the Vi-Co line was abolished.  Thankfully, the great taste has remained the same and I still drink it by the gallon, to this day.

Almost overnight, the terminology disappeared almost as quickly as the product and I doubt very many people still think about it as I do.  It's always bothered me some, although minuscule, because when Vi-Co disappeared, so did a little of Saskatchewan's identity and uniqueness.  Thankfully, we still have and frequently use the term "bunny-hug" to describe a hooded-sweatshirt.

Lottery Isn't Comprised of Three Words

I was returning home from an excursion I'd taken at mid-day.  Suffice it to say, I wasn't in the best of moods, given a major inconvenience about an hour earlier, but I wasn't prepared for what happened when I stopped at a nearby gas station to pick up a lottery ticket.

I've rarely visited this location over the years, as it's situated in a very inconvenient place.  It's pumps face backward in relation to when you drive into the lot, but given that I don't buy my gasoline from any of the regular stations, opting instead to visit the Costco for it's lower prices, the odd placement of the gas pumps at the Shell station are barely an issue.  However, I only needed a lotto ticket.  I haven't any chance of winning the jackpot, on account that it's something that I want and need desperately, hence the unlikelihood that karma will allow it, but just in case, it's only slightly easier to win with a ticket in hand.

I've purchased lottery from this location before, albeit it hadn't been for more than a decade, I'm sure, but I slipped in quickly, with only this purchase on my mind.  Behind the counter was a lone female.  She was a bigger girl, both in height and girth.  I directed my inquiry to her as she sat perched atop a tall stool, with an abundant belly hanging down over her "cooch", and both hands tucked deep into the pockets of her bunny hug, sorry....  In the pockets of her hoodie.

"Could I get a 6/49 with the...." I asked, interrupted by a negative blast from the large Marge parked behind the counter, 

"N***a, please!!  We don't sell no lottery!!" she blurted out in response.

I paused for a split moment, although it felt like an eternity as her statement slowly soaked into my psyche.  For one thing, she pronounced the word 'lottery', like it was three words; "LAW-TRRR-EEE"!!  Another thing, "We don't sell no..." is a double-negative, which would conclude that they do, in fact, sell lottery.

I shook my head, then responded, "First.  That seems a little harsh.  And secondly, who the f*ck doesn't sell lottery?  Every place of convenience, sells lottery."

Still seated on her perch, hands still in her pockets, she just turned her head to look out the window.  "Yeah.  Well we don't!!"

Anyone in the Saskatoon-area who may read this, please stop supporting this location of Shell.  Normally, I could laugh this shit off, but holy f*ck, such a callous response to such an innocent query, seems inexcusable.