Shopping My Way Through Life

Except for the making kamikaze trips on the weekends, I usually don’t mind going grocery shopping.  It’s the only time I can spend money without feeling guilty.  The family’s got to eat, right?   And, being a person who prefers to exert control (a term far more preferable to “control freak”), it’s one of the few times I get to pretty much buy what I want and what I feel we need.

In my town, Shop-Rite is the place for most people.  The alternative is the far more expensive Kings.  So at some point, one member from every family has to  foray to Shop-Rite .  I venture there after I drop the kids off at school knowing that I’ll have to commit about 90 minutes to the task, down from the three hours I used to spend when my daughter was a rambunctious toddler.  And that’s one of the fascinating things about grocery shopping:  you see people from all stages of life in the grocery store.

As I cruise the aisles, I see mothers with babies in their carriers.  I know from experience that those women are tired, cranky from sleep-deprivation, but need to get out not just to get groceries, but to come in contact with adults.  I smile at their babies, envying the experiences those mums are in for, but knowing that my time has passed.  Been there, done that.  I empathize with the women struggling with their toddlers, re-living the stress of shopping in a place that has glass jars and bottles all over the place while trying to keep an energetic toddler from trashing the place.  I see the joy in those moms’ eyes as they have their first conversations with kids just learning to talk.  But again, I smile knowing I’ve been there, done that, and am NOT doing it again.

At a different time of day, I’ll see working people hurrying through the store, buying lunch or picking up a few things on the way home.  The men absent-mindedly pull at their ties while the women click about in high heels.  Many are talking on their cellphones (Really?!  You can’t be in one place without talking on your cellphone?!)  I am reminded of the vow I took years ago that I will NEVER wear high heels again.

Then there are my contemporaries:  the women with children in school who have the luxury of grocery shopping alone.  Maybe they have part-time jobs or, like me, are looking for one.  We all know how much time we have left in the day before we need to pick up our wee folk from school.  We pause at the different shelves, mentally planning what will be the meals for the week, trying to anticipate what will bring pleasure to our families while minimizing the unhealthy components of processed food, and calculating what are the best buys.  Many times these ladies are busy in their heads and they look distracted.   Others catch up on their entire lives in the soda aisle and I can hear snippets of conversation involving Bobby’s award for this or Cindy’s performance in that.

Then there are the older people with smaller carts.  Their children are grown and gone, so their shopping is substantially smaller than mine.  Sometimes they hobble along, relying on their grocery carts for support, and, again, mentally calculating the cost of food to fit within their budgets.  If you say “excuse me” to try to get around them in the aisle, they don’t move unless you repeat it pretty loudly or tap them on the shoulder.  I guess they’re hard of hearing, but I wonder if at their age, they own whatever space they happen to occupy and that includes aisle space in the grocery store.    The senior bus comes to my Shop-Rite on Wednesdays, so I try to avoid going on that day.  I happen to like older people, but as I said, they don’t move.  Plus, they will fight to the death any cashier who refuses to take a coupon, even if it’s expired.  Amusing, yes; worth my time, no.

Some of the cashiers know me through my daughter who was so lively as a toddler that any aisle we were in inevitably rang with my melodious voice screaming, I mean, calling out her name.  Making my way through the grocery store is a walk through memory lane.  I remember my brother and I gleefully spotting spilled sugar in the baking goods aisle and “skating” on it, the Polish foods at the Foodtown in Garfield when I had my first apartment, going shopping with my new husband when I was first married, and buying diapers with my son when he was baby.  Now I load up on snacks for the kids to put in their school lunches and in the years to come, my shopping will lessen when Junior goes to college.  Eventually, I’ll be one of those older people, refusing to move in the aisles.

So shopping, for me, is actually a nice experience.  It’s something that has to be done and I’m the one who does it.  But as “gotta dos” go, it’s really not half bad.

This is an original post for Jersey Moms Blog.