Not “exagggerating” here, but I hate grocery shopping so much I always wait until I have to set traps for dust bunnies before I go for groceries. I try to avoid busy times like railroaders’ pay day or just before a holiday…SHIT! It’s Martin Luther King’s Day Monday! Surely the lily-white folks of my town aren’t calling in sick Monday so they can meditate on the gains in civil rights since the great MLK’s days and where we have to go from here? Are they?
Oh well, if you hadn’t noticed, I have a Dr.-Jekyll-to-Mr.-Hyde transformation when I grocery shop, which I just did. Shop. And transform. RAWR~!
So, while filling the cart up with $186.19 worth of necessities and a treat or two, I ran into two people (men for a change) blocking the quick way to the potatoes. Grrr! I knew I’d be sarcastic and snarky if I said anything to remind them of the obvious (“You are blocking the quick way to the potatoes…! Idiots!”), I chose a longer, more difficult route, which was even longer because a stock person blocked the first crossover aisle with…POTATOES! Whew! I grabbed a sack, and went on.
I got to the meat. A woman and young daughter stood in front of what I came for. Another shopper told himself “Blank it!” and continued on to other things he needed. I edged myself in closer to something I wasn’t there for but regarded as a reasonable substitute to standing till the young daughter figured out which meat she wanted. “Let’s get this one! No…this one sounds tastier! Nooooo. Maybe…this…o-n-eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee.”) I’m reasonably certain she finally settled on something by the time I went up and down four aisles. I’m equally certain children in America would benefit if they just ate what Mom prepared for them and realize choice comes with consequences. (Said he darkly….)
No Hispanic families were out shopping this morning. Love Hispanics, their music, their cultures, certainly all their cuisines from Mexico to the Caribbean to Terra del Fuego…. BUT! The whole family comes out, Gramma, Grampa, Mom, Dad, and all the little kids and their cousins, I swear. They are polite, nice families, but they dominate any aisle they are in. It’s easier to forget about whatever I need in an aisle occupied by an Hispanic family than to negotiate my way through.
Sorry if this sounds non-politically correct, but I wish Hispanic families left all but the food preparers at home, and the other adults could manage the very polite children.
What about the man who stops, parks his cart across the aisle instead of in line with it and to the side so others can pass through? Yeah, what about him? (“Let’s see, was that condensed milk I need or evaporated…??? Hmmm? Where’d I put that recipe I brought so I got everything I need for the million dollar fudge? Good thing I brought my cell phone. The missus knows which is which”) Grrr! She, of course, isn’t answering, so he stands there, oblivious to all traffic. Speaking of which, at least he isn’t in a moving vehicle!
Yes, I managed to get through the frozen foods, head to the two open checkout stands. By that time, I was sweating buckets. One thing that I deal with because of health issues related to Wegener’s granulomatosis is inability to stand for long periods of time. If I’m moving, I can last a bit longer, and, typically, I make it to check out OK, if a bit on the edge of the next thing I deal with: passing out if I don’t pay attention to the sweating that comes with being on my feet too long: It’s not a happy business!
This passing out thing means I ideally need to get in and out of the store as fast as possible. If I make it to checkout OK, then the next headache is dealing with one open checkout line and three people in front of me, one a couponer, one a pensioner, and the other someone who found all the items not in the computer so someone has to be called to run over to get a price so the checker can complete the transaction. Whew! Sweat-sweat-head-getting-lighter…! Hold onto the cart for stability and to assure I land on the soft bread in the children’s fold out seat….
I thought I was in luck today. Two lines open and both had just one person with a small number of items. I selected one where the checker almost had the wife and husband ahead of me checked out…except there was a technical issue with the cash register that required calling a manager over. The manager and the checker eventually got the foul up figured out and corrected, but my frozen foods…. I hope I got them home in time!
Never mind, though, I had to sit down or fall down. Before the checker got to my items, I told her I had to sit down because of my medical issues, and pointed to the chair where I’d be. Good thing I sat, too. I felt very light-headed by the time my butt hit the fibreglass!
“Do you need help out,” the checker asked, thoughtfully. “No, I’ll be OK. It’s when I get home I can use the help.”
I have a little red wagon with slatted sides I can load up, though getting it in the door with Andy and Dougy getting in the way is problematic. Dougy, too, wants to go outside if he can sneak a break. I have to wrestle groceries with my hands and a bad boy cat with my cane and leg. I’d be more stable taking a drunk test after drinking a quart of Scotch! (Theoretically – I’ve never drunk a quart of Scotch!)
Let’s return to the grocery store for a moment, though. I headed for my car. A van with very black windows obscured whether someone was about to back over me or just sat there warming the engine. I thought, “If I were a state trooper stopping a van like that- any car, truck, SUV, whatever – with windows that dark, I’d not only have my weapon loaded, safety off, cocked, and aimed at the general direction of the driver, I’d make everyone in the van exit and get down on the ground, spread eagle, hands above their heads, and be ready to be pepper sprayed or shot if they made even a slight move!”
What a turd I am when I’ve been grocery shopping! Well, I did warn you I hate shopping for groceries! See how I turned into a very unpleasant person by the time I hit the parking lot? What else could sour my mood?
Well, having my defrosting frozen foods in the trunk while I waited for a guy to turn left onto a major four lane road through town, one where he had to wait for vehicles stopped by two stop lights, one a block and the other two blocks away, to clear by from that direction so he could cross those two lanes after the blankity-blanks who travel on the inside lane coming from the other direction clear by so he can drive over to that lane. Grrr. Road irritations require yet another post.
I finally got to turn right, the fastest way to exit the parking lot. In fact, for those turning left instead, exiting right and driving around the corner, turning right, driving two blocks, turning right, and stopping at the red light that congests traffic more than regulates it, then turning left at the light actually is sometimes faster than waiting for traffic to clear! You almost can do it faster than it takes to read this paragraph. Almost!
I’ve detoxified my soul now, but probably put you in a bad mood. Sorry! That’s the risk you take being around me on grocery shopping day!
Better yet, it’s lunch time, and I actually have something other than dust bunnies to eat today! Maybe grocery shopping is a benefit after all.