When you’re younger, grocery shopping simply seems like the most fun thing in the world. You know, before you got too old to fit in the cart or ride on the back even though you’re not supposed to (because in my case I was large enough to tip the cart). I used to beg my mom to take me with her and when she did I would pick out the most ridiculous food choices that we just really didn’t need like Lunchables or root beer popsicles. You also never realize at that age that those $2.50 lunchables add up.
Now it’s like this huge deal to go grocery shopping. And while it can be fun going with roommates and picking out foods that you can all make and split and say that you’re going to cook but never actually do, it can also be highly irritating because your roommate can’t decide which flavor hummus they want (who cares?!) while your ice cream is melting all over your cart…doesn’t she get my priorities?
That’s why lately I’ve decided to go shopping on my own. I feel like such an independent lady while grocery shopping alone, but there are also some drawbacks. For example, when I’m alone I feel the need to rush through the store because I can’t handle being alone too long. Which I guess if you think about it is not that independent of me...Beyonce would not be proud.
Today was one of those days. I went to the grocery store—by my lonesome, ready to go. I started in produce and worked my way through. Well what’s the difference between a peach and a nectarine? Why do I not know if it is ripe or not? Haven’t I been taught this?! I’m 20 years old for crying out loud. I’m obviously a failure at picking out ripe fruit, so I settle on grapes and canned peaches.
So I continue my epic journey through the supermarket. I’m standing by the dairy section debating on what kind of yogurt to get. This is a very serious decision. I could very well be buying something that will just sit in my fridge for weeks until one drunken night when I’m too exhausted to care what I eat. That’s when a guy from dairy comes up and asks if he can help me find anything. I say no, but then I think of something. I ask him where the breadcrumbs are. It’s a random through that rushes through my head and I can see the irritation on his face. What does he care where the breadcrumbs are? He works in dairy. I’m an idiot. I even work in a grocery store! I should know where this shit is. He directs me to aisle 5, where he “is pretty sure” there are breadcrumbs. I feel like an ass hole, as usual.
The other thing about grocery shopping alone is that you buy things that you aren’t sure if you really need or not. Do I need that lean cuisine or does it only appeal to me because it’s on sale? And why is it on sale? Is it gross? Do other people not like this flavor? (see, problems…) Then you feel the need to put things back. Or you feel the need to buy the imposter store brand because it’s 15 whole cents cheaper! (SUPER SAVER right here, meaning that I can pick up that two dollar candy bar that I will easily devour in one sitting on the way out because I’ve done such a good job saving my 15 cents on this shopping trip)
There is a reason I’m not a finance major.
The other thing about grocery shopping alone is that you always seem to see things that remind you of something else that you should have gotten so you have to back track through the store and pass the same department six times so that the workers there are like “this girl doesn’t know how to shop, clearly she is a college student”
Then you’ve got the soccer moms who somehow manage to get through the entire store in a matter of ten minutes. WITH 4 kids with them! How do they manage??? It takes me an hour to get through the store because I’m constantly back tracking and forgetting what aisle that nice man from dairy told me the breadcrumbs were in and am to afraid to ask anyone else because I’m already a failure.
Alas, after what seems like hours of aimlessly wandering through the grocery store and you only have about 13 items in your cart, it is time to make it to the check out line. For some reason every time I go through the check out line I always seem to be behind a- the woman with the most obnoxious child in the store who growls at me or b- the creepy old man buying a bunch of vinegar (like, what does he need all that vinegar for..?) who feels the need to hit on the cashier. The cashier is always a girl that is close to my age therefore she feels the need to not speak to me since she knows I won’t complain. I mean, a smile would be nice…jeez. Customer service, people!
So anyways. I buy my 13 items and it’s like 40 dollars, which is upsetting but those damn breadcrumbs ended up being more expensive than I thought. Good thing I have my discount card!!! Then my total comes down to 38. I guess 2 dollars is something.
I walk my cart out to the parking lot and load my bags in the trunk, realizing that they put raw chicken in with my yogurt…really…well I suppose everyone has to get salmonella at least once to say they had it right?!
Then I put my empty cart back with the others while trying to avoid getting hit by crazy soccer moms who must get all of their shopping done in less than 20 in their hip new mini vans. I remind myself of Frogger.
Finally, I get home and am all proud of myself for grocery shopping on my own. I finish unloading all the groceries and am elated at the now vast amounts of food in the fridge.
That’s about the time I realize I forgot to get the milk. But hey, at least I was independent...like Beyonce, sort of.
Until next time,
Kaitie xo
