Usually I get topics for the blog from things that happen to me. Sometimes, though, not much happens. Just this morning I was thinking: What the H-E-double-hockey-sticks am I going to write about this week? All I’ve done is go to the grocery store 17 times.
And voilà! It hit me! Not only could I write a blog post about going to the grocery store, I could write a SERIES of blog posts about going to DIFFERENT grocery stores!
Now I know this sounds a bit boring/uninspiring/mind numbing, but I decided I’m going to knock this grocery store series OUT OF THE PARK. You just wait. It’s going to be freaking awesome. So…Day 1:
I usually go Krogering twice a week. This means two things: (1) I kinda know everyone who works there, and (2) I kinda know where everything is. Or at least I used to. Why is that, you wonder? I’ll tell you. Remember—this is going to be FREAKING AWESOME, so don’t jump ship:
A few months ago I went into Kroger on Sunday morning, as per my usual. Everything was going fine. I breezed through the produce section, moseyed my way on over to the organic section to get my $5 12-oz bag of granola (crooks), and took a little break at the deli. I traded my usual quips with the nice deli lady (Her, every single time she sees me: “You should get a discount you’re here so much!” or sometimes, to mix it up, “You should work here!” followed by Me: “Ha!” or “True that, girlfriend!”).
It was when I came to the center of the store, looking for some peanut butter, that my MIND WAS FOREVER BLOWN. Everything was moved around. EVERYTHING. In the exact spot where the peanut butter should have been was—wait for it—soup. Soup?!?
I tried not to panic. I wondered if somehow I had tempted the fates and been transported to Bizarro World.
I looked down at my list, trying to ground myself. However, I arrange my list in the order in which everything is at the grocery store. So this simply reminded me that I was screwed. SCREWED, I say.
A sweet elderly lady walked by me. She must have felt as lost and scared as I was, because as soon as she looked at me she said, “Do you know where the syrup is? This is ridiculous!! Movin’ everything around for no reason!!” I managed a smile to show unity.
I began wandering, trying to get my bearings. The minutes were ticking by. I squinted up at the new signs above each aisle. I still hadn’t found the peanut butter. I started sweating. I was so very frightened. I was so very alone. Until…
A knight in shining armor. Actually, the assistant manager guy wearing a sash (Miss America style) with the word “INFORMATION” printed across it. I ran to him. I almost cried from relief.
“Please, sir, can you tell me where the peanut butter is?” He not only told me, he walked me to the spot. And there they were: hundreds of brown tubs lined up in perfect harmony. I’d never seen a sight so beautiful. I grabbed my usual brand and bolted for the dairy section, which, I’m happy to say, was still intact and the way I remembered it.
It’s now been two or so months. I’m getting more used to the new layout, but dang it all to heck (excuse my language), I cannot for the life of me remember where they keep the freaking raisins. Every single time I’m there.
So every week I still have my produce section and the nice deli lady. They give me comfort. Most importantly, they psyche me up and give me the courage to face, nay, OVERCOME the prepackaged food aisles. And that, my friends, is a triumph if I ever saw one.
Image from Pleasant Family Shopping.