I am a klutz.
The two liter Dr. Peppers were stacked chest high at the end of the aisle, in plastic trays that resembled giant egg cartons. I reached for the nearest one of only three left on the top tray. As soon as I lifted the bottle, the entire tray plummeted to the floor, sending one giant bottle of soda bouncing across the supermarket tile. The other bottle hit the ground ass end first, blowing the cap off and sending out a mentos-fueled jet of Dr. Pepper that hit me directly in the chest from ten feet away. I screamed, or squealed really, out of shock as I stood there getting showered in delicious, sticky soda pop. Then Mr. Cate walked casually over from the next aisle to find me dripping wet and standing in a puddle of Dr. Pepper, to which he replied, "I heard something blow up, and I heard a scream, and I knew it had something to do with you."
True story. That's a pretty typical trip to the grocery store for me.