I like ice machines. A lot.
Before I turned 50, it was a point of pride that I almost never forgot which elevator button to push in the many office buildings I visited each week. Yesterday, though, I completely spaced out.
I SUPPOSE THERE ARE WORSE THINGS that could happen than falling down in the Whole Foods parking lot while returning to your car with a bag of groceries, but at 5:30 last evening, I couldn't think of one.