Clean up on Aisle Four

I hate grocery shopping.

It takes a nice Saturday and ruins it for me every weekend. If I can get there before eight am, I’m thrilled but more often than not, I seem to go when everyone and their brother decide to pop in.

It’s not that I don’t love food. Food and I are great friends. I love food, I love to cook, I love to eat the stuff I cook, I just hate going to get the food.

Maybe you’ve noticed, maybe you’re lucky enough to have someone else grocery shop for you, but grocery stores aren’t just a bunch of racks anymore. Nope. We still have racks, but NOW we’ve got these things peppered throughout every aisle – and not just one, mind you. I counted eight, EIGHT! in one aisle alone. I’m talking about the cardboard display case. The obstacles that I’m pretty sure are put there for the average shopper to run into, thus inspiring them to buy out of guilt or embarrassment.

I should know. I beaned three of them last week. I bought marshmellows I didn’t even know I wanted because I turned into an aisle and smacked right into them. Clever bastards…

It’s so smart and yet stupid at the same time. If they keep adding these dumb things, they’ll have to reduce the width of shopping carts just to maneuver through the maze, however that would reduce the amount of food one could stuff in their cart, right? When does it end? It’s crazy and it seems to be getting worse. I personally love it when someone parks their cart on the opposite side of the aisle from the display case and stands for two minutes staring at whatever while I wait impatiently, my route now completely blocked. Sometimes I just want to take my cart, push it up against the display and nudge it down the aisle. Maybe flip off the other shopper for good measure. But I don’t. I think about it, but I would never do it. Besides, they usually look just about as miserable as I do.  I hate grocery shopping. That’s enough of my rant.

On a side note – my mood did improve drastically when I made it to the checkout counter last weekend. I was watching the cashier, who by the way, had to be the fastest cashier I have ever seen and I told her so. I don’t know why, but it just sort of came out of my mouth. She was lightening quick. As soon as I said it, she looked up and just beamed at me.  Then, she told the bagger that I was getting the “special” discount. The what? I watched her grab a paper and scan a barcode on it. I am not making this up. I got the special discount for being nice. How often does that happen? Now I’m actually intrigued to go back and see if she recognizes me. It’s the only reason I have for looking forward to my most distasteful task of the weekend…

 

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