Shopping III

It has been almost 6 years since I have gone grocery shopping on a Saturday at Walmart. 

There's a reason I don't.

I remembered it today.

Let's just say, I'm shook.

I had a valid reason for doing this.  Charlie is on the Company Dance team, and they had a Halloween party on Friday night.  Because I have a huge case of (probably justified) Mom guilt going on recently due to working so fucking much between my practice I own and the group practice, I decided to forgo the usual Friday night shopping to go with her to the party.  I don't regret that decision at all.  The party was fun.  There was a buttload of sugary treats.  There were mothers I introduced to the wonders of Celeste Barber.  I danced. I did Karaoke with the girls, who are the only people on Earth who would appreciate my singing because I suck worse than people who don't do the thank you wave when you let them turn into a parking lot from a busy street.  Seriously, those people are a whole new species of human that we should probably exile to some island somewhere.  Preferable somewhere cold. Not a warm island.  Those non-waving bastards don't deserve warmth since they don't have any in their cold, non-waving souls.

The decision I do regret was to not go after we got back from the party and waiting until Saturday morning.  I should have just dragged my tired ass out to the store, but I had had a half-formed plan to maybe drive out to Meijer but that did not materialize due to accidentally sleeping in this morning and I had to pick the girls up from dance so I could not drive that far and be back in time. (Meijer's produce is significantly better, as is their gluten-free offerings.  Because yes, I am now *that* person who is gluten free(ish) and does not have diagnosed Celiac's.  Next I plan to slather my children in coconut oil and start using charcoal tooth powder instead of toothpaste.  Wait, fuck, I already do both things.  Hell, go ahead and judge away at my hippie ass...)

I get to the store and even before I get out of the car I am filled with regret.  People are wandering around the parking lot, in the drizzly suck that is Ohio weather in late October, like they are taking a leisurely stroll through a lovely garden park and stopping to ohh and ahh at the cute little waterfall.  Fucking move, people.   There is nothing fascinating about the cart corral at Walmart.  Plus you are in the rain and my cat like water hating tendencies are cringing on the inside for you, even as I sit in the dryness of my car.

I finally park and get into the actual store, where I am pleased to find that all the carts are sopping wet.  Luckily, this helped to moisten the bleach wipe, the ones they provide in the front of the store to wipe down the carts, that had completely dried out, so I could pretend that it might have had some kind of effect.  Then came the awkward walking past the door greeter situation.  I am never 100% sure what is expected out of me in this situation.  I mean, their job is to literally say hi to people walking into the store; however I generally hate interacting with people socially but feel pulled because this is their job and I don't want to hurt their feelings.  I usually opt for a pained smile that probably makes them all think I am some sort of weird sociopath because they usually shift a few inches away from me.  Probably in self protection.  I don't blame them.  I'd shift away from me too.

Then I get to deal with the people in the store.  Like the ones who park their carts and then wander away like four aisles, then get offended when you move it 6 inches to grab a jar of salsa.  Or the people who stand in produce and hold their cucumber in their hand, looking a little lost, until they see someone else grabbing the bag that is literally right above their head.  And don't forget the awkward getting to the end of the aisle and almost crashing into someone coming the other way.  There seriously needs to be traffic rules for Walmart on a Saturday.  Though people don't know how to work a stop sign and don't wave thank you in real traffic, so there's that.  Bastards.

I get to checkout and of course the cashier is one of those who does not turn the belt on to move your groceries forward.  Seriously, people, I just want to unpack my shit, pay, and get the hell outta dodge at this point...and as quickly as possible.  Leave the fucking belt ON so we can streamline this shit.  By the time the person in front of me has paid and is leaving, my entire cart should be unpacked so I can concentrate on putting the bags back into the cart and not be forced to make small talk or to try to avoid eye contact while you are ringing my shit up.'

I am documenting this on here so that I can remember in the future...no matter how tired you are on Friday night, you go grocery shopping.  I don't care if it is a fucking blizzard and you are dying from malaria...you don't go on Saturday morning.  Ever.  I swear, if there was ever a time when I wished my imaginary prescription for Xanax was real, it was today.  I didn't even get any wine while shopping, either.  Kroger and Giant Eagle totally have the right idea with a bar in their store.  I wonder if there is an untapped market for Ubers for grocery shoppers at these stores.  Because I'd be all over that shit, I tell you what.