Yesterday--when all my troubles seemed right in my lap.
June 8, 2006Remember when I was all depressed, that day? Boy, good thing I didn’t post to my blog, because really, who wants to read my pathetic, self-involved whining? It would be like watching a kitten with a wounded paw trying to climb some stairs. Am I right, about the kitten? Not even a cute kitten, let me add. One of those hairless types. With a bad eye.
(I just wrote “bad idea” instead of “eye,” which amused me. I like very much the image of a kitten with a bad idea. “I think I’ll mash up some Dexedrine and mix it with a Coke!” thought the kitten with the bad idea. “Kitties need uppers!”)
Yesterday I thought I was feeling better, and then I went to the supermarket. The suburban supermarket is a terrible place. I was so tired of the tiny, cramped supermarkets of Brooklyn, in which all of the aisles are designed to be exactly two inches narrower than the average stroller. Many a supermarket clerk heard the grunts and curses of a disheveled mom trying to hoist her stroller over boxes of yams and Depends in Aisle 6. And oh, I would think, how I would like a car! A car that one could load up with the many groceries, instead of hanging one’s grocery bags from one’s bodily parts and then attempting to drag one’s bag-laden self and one’s ornery child homeward!
But it turns out I was stupid to think these things, because the supermarkets here, they drive me even nutsier. First off, they’re way too big to find anything. You’re looking for some arugula and there are 57 arugula aisles, and the organic arugula is in one of them but you’ll never know which, and then you think SCREW THIS I’ll just grab some romaine hearts and the romaine hearts are 300 miles away, in the Romaine Wing (Hearts Aisle). So even if you’re going to the store for three items, it will still take you a day and a half. Pack a lunch.
And also during the day, the only other people in the supermarket are senior citizens. Not just senior citizens—ultra-seniors. The over-90 set wanders the many aisles all day long, looking for the bus back to their assisted living facility. They like to amble in front of your cart and demand that you help them located the roasted cashews.
Finally, starving and exhausted, I staggered to the cashier, who asked for my Super Value Savings Saver Plus Card, and I had to tell her I didn’t have one. She looked at me like I had just confided that all these groceries were for my satanic baby-eating feast. "I don’t understand," she said, and I said, “I—I just don’t have one“ and she said “You have to have one,” Shop-Rite must have your personal information before you can partake in the savings, which of course isn’t true, strictly speaking, but is true for these exceedingly concerned cashiers who just want you to get the savings! The sweet savings! So finally she got the special Newcomer Courtesy Card or whatever that enabled me to save 38 cents, and she let me go. But it still took me 45 minutes to get to my car because of all the old people who died on their way to the exits.
I finally got to my car, where I cried into my steering wheel, because I still couldn’t see the humor in any of it. Luckily it’s hitting me today. A little late, but it’s coming to me.
Reader Comments (113)
You will soon have your own little routine, and woe to anyone who gets in your way! How dare someone park in *your* preferred parking spot, the one at the back of the parking lot but close to the exit near the self-checkout and ATM? You'll be able to accomplish your shopping in one swooping, barely stopping sweep through the store, skipping aisles and grabbing cases of soda on the fly.
You will pluck your chosen items from the shelves without even slowing the cart down. In fact, Grasshopper, you will learn to use the cart's own weight to help navigate turns and slalom between seniors. And then you will have mastered the Zen of Grocery Shopping.
Is there a Trader Joe's near you?
http://www.traderjoes.com/locations/search/NEW+JERSEY.asp
I figure, as long as I have to drive to get the the #&!@#%! grocery store, I might as well drive to one I LIKE
And yes indeed -- it is enormous. But who cares when you can pick from 238 kinds of cheese? And when there are 12 varieties of kosher smoked herring? In case you need your pick of pickled herring. And there is childcare and funny little shopping carts for people under three feet tall and carts that look like they merged with a plastic car that your child can "drive" while you push the cart through the store. And the prices, they are good! And low! What if you needed a $250 LeCrueset braiser to make the brisket? That's okay. Because they sell them too! An aisle over from the discounted 85-roll package of toilet paper.
Supermarkets: Many chains have a "senior day" when buses run from the assisted living places and there's free coffee for the 65+ set. Find out if yours does, so you can avoid that day of the week. Also, what the heck is the rush? I mean, it's not like you're rushing off to meet friends (cruel but true). We eat our way through the store, smell stuff, say hello to the lobsters, and milk it for all it's worth.
For finding people, look for those free parenting magazines for a local moms' group, or check story hours at libraries/bookstores, or call your local hospital and see if the maternity center hands out a booklet to new moms about resources available. And find a church/synagogue if you are into that, and if you aren't, look for the closest Unitarian Universalists, because that will be where you find all the laid-back liberals. Or, if you're doing nursery school, find a co-op where you'll actually get to know people.
It is so hard and it takes so much freaking energy, but things will get better.
I laughed so hard at this I cried some more - I NEEDED this today...kitty with a bad idea and all! Bless You so much - and hang in there it WILL get better - especially if you keep finding the humor....I am still laughing at the savings cards - oh bless you - you just don't know how your horrible day has made my horrendous one SO much more bearable!
Oh oh oh.
I'm a little worried about this whole New Jersey thing. It will probably get better when H goes to kindergarten.
Oh.
Happy (non-urban) shopping. :-)
I've moved a bit over the years and have discovered that once I find where the good food is bought and sold, the place feels like home. Because I live through my stomach.
Actually Whole Paycheck on Saturdays, you don't even have to have lunch.
Seriously, it's a quality of life issue. We live in a rural area, but close to a funky, independent natural food store. I gladly pay the high prices in exchange for (a) not having to make so many goddamn decisions (b) the only old folks around are aging hippies in tie-dye and best of all (c) no supermegasavings card.
May you find your very own funky grocery store in the heart of suburbia. Write home and tell us about it :)
I grew up with these sorts of supermarkets, and I travel to NYC on business and get so frustrated with those little corner overcrowded places that can't possibly give a selection of goods that would be required for my family.
I sure hope you adjust! I will say that when I was 17 and 18, I would do grocery shopping for my mom. She would scribble out a list for me and it would be perfectly in order of the store, up and down the aisles. I always thought that was so cool. My mom knew the store inside and out.
I think you're being dramatic. Though I'm feeling you about the old people. I was once told by a rather elderly woman at Shop Rite that I just needed to be patient as she and her husband practically straddled the aisle with their two carts and walkers. I replied that, actually, I didn't have to, but have a nice day, and then proceeded to turn around and take a fast-paced detour through the gourmet cheese maze. It took me just as long but at least I was moving.
Alice, seriously, it's New Jersey, not Kansas.