Road Rage at the Grocery
I normally don’t grocery shop on Thursdays but I needed just one item for the next morning, so I thought I’d just run in to my nearby grocery and pick it up while I was driving by. The problem is this: Thursdays are senior citizen discount days at my local grocery, and we get 10% off. Because of this, the grocery is unusually crowded, and filled with slow moving vehicles, known as grocery carts. This only accentuates the usual poor manners of other cart drivers whose actions range from distracted to discourteous.
I don’t mean to be harsh but there really ought’a be a law for everyone…on grocery store propriety.
One of the biggest problems is that so many people don’t know how to drive a shopping cart properly. What frustrates me most, are those people who insist upon pushing, their cart down the LEFT side of the aisle. Now think about this a bit. One drives on the right side of the road. One usually walks on the right side of the sidewalk. What makes people think it is OK to push their cart down the left side of their aisle directly headed towards us right side drivers? I’m wondering, “Do we need lane lines and directional arrows in our grocery stores?”
Parking is another problem, and I don’t mean outside the store although that is another issue altogether! But how is it that people of sound mind, choose to park their shopping cart in the exact middle width of the aisle, while they wander slowly further down the aisle to stand staring at cans of green beans. No one can pass by on either side of the cart without pausing to push the other person’s cart out of the way. Someday, when the driver is distracted, I’m going to load their cart with cans of green beans; and then push it out of my way, all the way to the far side of the grocery into the pet food aisle for them to find!
Worst of all, though, are the “double-widers” Those shoppers who park their respective carts double wide in the middle of the aisle, while they hold their “community forum chats” on how old their grandchildren are and the latest neighborhood gossip, oblivious to the “one item only” people, who are there to actually buy their one item sometime before the sun goes down.
Then there are those who stand in the narrow aisles of the produce department, blocking it completely while deliberating what to purchase for their spouses or family. Perhaps a little bit of planning, could avoid them becoming aisle blockaders? I actually witnessed a couple who appeared to have been happily married, well maybe not happily, but at least married long enough to know each other well. Like maybe 60 years? Their blockade was set up early in the grocery store tour, in the produce section. With some hesitation, she turns to him and asks, “Do you like apples? Like they just met yesterday? and were on their first date?
Since being retired, I’ve made an amateur’s observation of the personality types that frequent my local grocery. And, I have discovered that there are five basic groups that need reprogramming.
First of all, is the one I would call the “gaper.” It’s usually a guy who I notice standing stoically with his mouth hanging open, staring at boxes of cereal, and staring, and staring. This type, although numerous, is pretty innocent. He never bothers anyone, and will stand staring for long periods of time, until his wife comes to pick him up. The only time I get frustrated is when one is standing directly in front of the box of cereal I want, because it’s hard to get them to notice that you might be shopping for cereal, too.
Another shopper who is frustrating is “the waffler.” You know the one I’m referring to…those who will stand in a line six persons deep in front of me at the deli. Then when finally arriving at the counter, they have no idea what they want yet. Other shoppers are forced to wait behind them patiently, or not patiently, staring at the ceiling counting to 10. After twenty questions of the deli clerk, several sample tastings, and after another 5 minutes, they will decide on only 4 ounces of pastrami.
Speaking of the deli reminds me of “the munchers,” those eating and sampling vegetables from the salad bar. These are the middle-aged guys who saunter up to the salad bar, sample about a meal’s worth of produce from the self-take-out, before actually placing only a dollar’s worth of food into their container and checking out with a smirk on their face.
But the worst offenders of grocery store propriety have got to be “the squeezers.” These are usually ladies who insist on squeezing everything, not just the Charmin, but the produce, like tomatoes, until they’re nearly bruised pulp. Then, deciding that the tomatoes are too ripe, because they’re too soft, (probably because twenty other people had been previous squeezing them), they walk away without buying any. Now, those tomatoes are only good for diced salsa, of course after a thorough washing. These shoppers must undoubtedly be people with anxiety problems, who just like to squeeze things to vent their frustrations. We need to get them some of those red rubber anxiety balls for them to squeeze. You know, it would be kind of fun to mix them in with the tomatoes to see if any ultimately end up in a salad.
Similar to the squeezers are “the sniffers.” You’ve seen them…going through the produce department, nose closely sniffing the merchandise… I guess to see if it’s ripe. But who wants to buy an apple after one of these types cruise through?
Now the overhead intercom suddenly pages “attention all shoppers.” Thinking it was to perhaps announce a flash sale on rhubarb, I paused to make sure I didn’t miss any of the details. It went on to request, “amber alert, amber alert.” “Missing person. If anyone notices a short man with a mustache, wearing a green shirt and reading glasses, and walking aimlessly down an aisle, please bring him to the customer service desk. His wife is trying to find him; and she says she is only going to count to three before leaving him here. He was last seen in the toiletries department squeezing- you guessed it- the Charmin.”
I locate my item and head towards the checkout.
I usually use self-checkout because it’s faster. But sometimes I’ll go through the regular one-item checkout to work on my “cultural awareness” skills by interacting with a person rather than a computer. Today I noticed a short line at the checkout with an elderly lady just about finished, and ready to pay. So, I stepped in line behind her with my item. The checkout lady rang up the last item and told the lady what her bill would be. Then began the arguing over the price of her $1.25 box of breath mints. Wasn’t it on sale? No? Was this the regular size or the mini-sized container? She was sure it hadn’t been priced this much. Perhaps it was on the wrong shelf? Why wasn’t there a larger sign for people who had cataracts?
Finally, after assistance from the store manager, the final price of the breath mints was agreed upon. Then the elderly woman ever so slowly opened up her huge, beautiful purse, rummaged around in various compartments and eventually pulled out about thirty wrinkled up pieces of paper known as coupons. Painstakingly, she began opening and smoothing out each of the thirty coupons while the checkout lady waited with eyes rolled back, and I waited, counting to ten again. Of course, all thirty needed to be carefully examined to be sure all the outdated coupons were discarded. But alas, that was not to be. There were only 29 coupons! One was missing! So, opening her purse again, out comes her wallet, two pens, a small notepad, lipstick, cotton balls, safety pins, tissues, gloves, hand sanitizer, unused straws, and a plastic bag filled with fast food packets of ketchup, salt, and pepper. “There it is,” she said triumphantly as she handed the small wrinkled piece of paper to the now chagrined check out lady. “Yes, that’s it, the $0.05 coupon off for the $4 container of Miralax.” I tell you, There Ought’a be a law against coupons! By now, there are seven people deep standing behind me, waiting to check out with their single items, and I am feeling a little like a slow- moving vehicle backing up traffic behind me. And I can feel the animus building. So I turn around to them and shrug my shoulders as if to say it’s not my fault! It’s the slow-moving Buick in front of me. Once the total was added up, her articles placed carefully back into her purse, and the five valid coupons were discounted, and the 10% senior discount was applied, the older lady began to dig into her purse again for her cash. Out came several bills, and the remainder, of course, she then counted out with a handful of coins. One at a time. This eventually led to an exchange between the once pleasant, but now frowning, checkout lady and the lady about whether a quarter or a nickel had been exchanged. The lady customer was sure that she had given the check-out lady a quarter and deserved 20 cents back. So, the checkout lady, still having the cash and change in her hand, counted out the total again showing the older lady that it really was a nickel and not a quarter that she had been given.
Then begin the bagging follies.
“Paper or plastic?”
What?” the lady responded.
“I said, paper bags or plastic ones?” said the checkout lady.
“Yes, put the paper goods in plastic bags, thank you. And put the tissue paper by the box of cereal, no fresh produce next to the paper goods, and the butter must go in the top part of the second bag.”
After carefully rearranging both bags of groceries to her satisfaction, the lady shopper, now pleased with her purchases, loads her car, and drives away in her Mercedes, only, I imagine, to arrive home to tell her husband. “There must have been a sale on green beans today,” and to ask timidly, “do we have pets?”
I haven’t had such a, dare I say, “entertaining?” day in a long time. But it took me an hour and a half to get a box of Sugar Pops!