I’M HUNGRY

It’s 8:05 as I enter the massive supermarket. It’s a good thing that I have my list.  Let’s see:  apples, salad, milk, and cereal.  Very healthy.  Oh yes, don’t forget cookies to counter the healthy stuff.  Balance is important.

 

I have a good idea about where everything is in this maze the size of three football fields. I’ve already gotten some exercise walking from the parking lot to the entrance. I was smart this time.  I wrote down my parking section on my shopping list.  How clever.  Section “47 C”.

 

OK, here we go. My God!  I’m assaulted by the sight and smells of a massive array of chocolate cakes, pies, cupcakes, donuts, and pastries. Racks of handcrafted exotic deserts are displayed at an angle on tables that jut out into the aisle.  Intense lighting from the heavens above bring them to life.

 

The only direct path to the fruits and vegetables is through this minefield of temptation and sin. General George Patton would take his tanks and just run his division straight through to the objective.  I can’t help but stare at the treasures before me.  I decide to push on lest I rip open a dozen packages and smash them into my face, only to be dragged away by management- covered with evidence.

 

I arrive finally at “apples” at 8:13. My heart rate is still around 120.  I take a deep breath and survey the apple kingdom. Some have travelled a long way for my convenience, the state of Washington, according to the label.  Others have had  a shorter commute, such as Jersey Macs.  They sound like the name of a minor league baseball team.  Honey crisp.  Sounds yummy.  Golden delicious, better still.  Baldwin, Johnathan and Empire.  What should I do?  I close my eyes, crumple up my list and toss it at the apples.  I immediately grab the closest bag and throw it into my cart.  Off to the veggies.

 

I’m entering a new climate zone now. As I approach the vegetables, I am blasted by a cold front.  I should have brought a jacket.  Let’s see.  There’s Romaine, Boston, Iceberg and something called Endive.  Other green stuff includes tiny lettuce like vegetables called parsley.  They are bright and happy looking under more intense lighting.  There are two or three brands and choices such as organic or toxic.  I fall back on my crumpled list method to avoid hypothermia.  I’m soon off again.  It’s 8:22.

 

I move on to the cereal section. Most aisles have a list of 8 or 10 items on signs conveniently hanging down in front of the aisle.  Not cereal.  It is the important meal of the day and therefore it has an entire aisle devoted to it.  I glance down this endless aisle and I begin to break into a cold sweat.  The last time I bought cereal was last Christmas.  I believe it was a blue box but I could be wrong.  Corn, rice, wheat, Lucky Charms, Sugar Pops, and chocolate marshmellow cereal greet me.  That last one belongs in the bakery section at the front of the store; it was probably banished for it’s being uncertain about its true identity.  I don’t think it belongs here either.  The aisle is too long for my crumpled list method.  It wouldn’t be a fair throw.

 

I look at three blue cereals for the lowest calories, the lowest carbs, the lowest fat and less than ten unpronounceable chemicals. None make the cut.  I finally settle on something called “Healthy and Natural”.  I avoid reading the fine print.  I could begin to cry soon.   It’s now 8:55 and I am beginning to despair.  I may miss lunch.  There is food here, I console myself.  Off to the milk.  I can do this.

 

The dairy section stretches to the horizon, ending ironically in the massive beer department. How appropriate is that?  I wonder if I ever get over there will I find several men lying about with bottle openers and crumpled shopping lists at their side.  Focus.  I must chose.  Regular, 4%, 2%, 1% or no percent.  Organic or toxic once again.  Oh but now there are new options such as almond milk, rice milk, yak milk or milk duds.  I think the last one escaped from the candy aisle.  My shopping list bounces off the window.  No luck.  I decide I will take the product selected by the next customer.  It was a dead heat for the two women, so I took the two milk products rather than risk another trial.  It’s now 9:11.

 

I opened my crumpled and trusty list. I’ll pass on the cookies.  I don’t deserve any.  Such spoils should only go to seasoned shoppers.  Besides, I fear I may never leave.  I see daylight ahead as I speed through checkout.  The clerk looks at this pathetic shopper with only a few items.  It’s 9:26. Sad.

 

A quick stop at the gas station was delightful. Besides gas, they sell food.  Two tiny, short aisles and a small dairy section as well as snacks everywhere.  I have completely ingested a candy bar as the clerk scans the empty wrapper.  I simply don’t care if it’s not actual food.

 

Food is over-rated.