I Hate Grocery Shopping - Seriously, I Mean It!

Living in this remote location, it’s a 1.5-hour trip to the nearest grocery store. Naturally, I try to only make the trek once a month. I decided to be neighborly and ask my neighbor (5 miles up the canyon) if I could pick anything up for her and her husband, you know, to save them a trip.

Helen agreed and dropped off her list of 20 items early last evening. As she handed me her list, I asked if there were any special instructions. Helen said that her list was self-explanatory, just regular stuff. As she left, she thanked me and asked me call her tomorrow when I’ve returned.

I hate grocery shopping! I mean I really hate it and I have always procrastinated when it comes to grocery shopping. Once I was down to a few saltines and a can of sardines before I gave in. To this day, I’m still not sure how those sardines, marinated in mustard sauce no less, ended up in my pantry. You know how things seem to make their way to the back of the shelf and don’t ever really resurface until you clean? Not this can of sardines, it was always staring me in the face every single time I opened the pantry door. I took it on camping trips – it came home with me. I took it fishing thinking I might use the little sardines as bait – nope, back to the pantry. No one ever copped to knowing anything about these sardines. When I moved, some three years later, I finally pitched it.

Anyway, back to why I hate grocery shopping, I’m the one you always see walking from the hinter lands across the parking lot just to get to the front door. For the life of me I can never find a parking place close in. I’m the one that can’t separate the carts. Then, after some cursing and a tug of war, I’m the one going down the aisles with the mismatched wheels that causes steering problems and the annoying squeak. I’m the one that pushes the button repeatedly at the meat counter. And, yes, I’m the one at check-out that has more than one price check. I hate that loud speaker! And, one more sigh from that man behind me with his 30-pack of Keystone and a bag of peanuts, I’ll have to turn around and give him “the look”.

Then it’s back to the hinter lands to unload my gimped-up cart. I pray as I load my truck I won’t tear one of those overloaded bags and have to chase cans around the parking lot or fish-out the one can that manages to end up under the vehicle with the lowest clearance. Whew, all done. Seat belt buckled and I’m on my way back home with my load.

Now, here’s a service I’ve often wished grocery stores offered. That kid, the one that overloads your bags, has to come home with you, unload your groceries and place them by aisle-order in your pantry. I swear I’d pay for such a service. So many times, three days later, I’m stepping over the groceries to make my way into the kitchen.

As I prepared my list this morning, I decided to add Helen’s items to my list so, quite frankly, I wouldn’t forget. I unfolded the piece of paper that contained her list and $40. I gave it a quick glance and could not believe what I saw. Look at this list!

1 – Avocado
5 – Cans El Paso whole green chilies
2 – Bottles Tabasco sauce
7 – Cans pinto beans with jalapenos
2 – 1# blocks of hot pepper cheese
1 – 2# block Velveeta and
1 – Unbreakable plastic comb

Good lord! These are not items I would buy and I’m a little embarrassed that they will go down the same mini-conveyor with my fresh fruits and vegetables, the organic milk and juice and the wild salmon. C’mon, Velveeta is a processed cheese food – it says so right on the box. I shudder to think what this diet is doing to Helen and her husband’s gastrointestinal and septic systems. Notice, she did not include Beano, toilet paper or a plunger on her list. But, what she did include was an unbreakable plastic comb. Huh? I had half a mind to call Helen just before I left for town to ask if she had thought of anything else she needed or to gently make mention of my suggestions. I would have, but I was afraid I would not have been able to without laughing.

I managed to make it to-and-from the grocery store without anything extraordinary happening. I am pleased to say I actually got a cart with matching wheels this time – bonus. I gave Helen a call to let her know I had returned. I sifted through the bags and placed her order out on the dining table while I waited for her arrival. This way she could check to make sure I had purchased all the items she had asked for.

When Helen arrived she checked her groceries and placed them in a box she had brought with her. As she thanked me, she took a look around and asked if I needed any help with putting my things away before she left. I guess I looked a little frazzled, being a post-menopausal, pre-osteoporosis woman and all. I just smiled and told her I was in the process (yeah, right) of putting them away. After the refrigerated things were put up, I stepped over the rest of the items, grabbed a bag of grapes and settled in to watch Wife Swap. After all, I have a whole month before I have to go back.