Tag Archives: grocery shopping

I’ll stop telling you how to do your job when you figure out how to do it correctly

Now, I know.  You’re like 17, and working the cash register at ShopRite is, like totally not your life’s ambition.  You’re waiting for bigger and better things to come your way, like working the cash register at Auto Zone.  I get it.  But, dude, right now, you’re a cashier at ShopRite.  So let’s get a few things straight right now.

1)  First, I apologize for not having my shopper’s club card with me.  Your system allows me to recite my phone number in substitution for the actual presence of the card.  I know swiping the card over the scanner is like way totally easier than typing in a ten-digit phone number.  I’m sorry for that.  But I really do not appreciate having to tell you my phone number FOUR TIMES because you lack the manual dexterity or attention span to type it in correctly the first three times.  And your idiocy is only funny to you.

2)  I guess, thanks, for not proofing me when I bought my six-pack of Mike’s Hard Lemonade.  Your register requires you enter my birth date to appease the UPC gods or something, so I told you my birth date by saying the month, day and year.  (Like “February 17, 1974” — though that is not REALLY my birth date, internet stalker people.)  Do you really lack the mental fortitude to convert from “February” to “02”?  Did you REALLY need to ask me what number month February is?  Because, let me tell you dude, the problems don’t get any easier as you get older.

3)  Maybe you haven’t taken biology yet.  Or maybe you spent all of it scratching your name into the lab tables.  But seriously, don’t bag my strawberries and bananas with my raw chicken.  And seriously, SERIOUSLY, don’t make me explain why doing so is A Really Bad Idea.  I guess ShopRite doesn’t do much training for you on cell biology and epidemiology and infectious diseases, but the short answer to your stunned “why?” should have been “because I don’t want to shit my ass off” instead of the kinder, gentler, “Because it’s not a good idea to bag raw meat with produce.  In fact, don’t ever bag raw meat with anything other than raw meat, ever.”  You’re lucky my kids were there.

Now please, go grow a brain.

Vortex

I somehow managed to spend nearly 3 hours grocery shopping today.  I cannot quite figure out how I entered the store around 5:20 and left the store at 7:55.

Well, there ARE clues.

I let Lane help a lot.  I let her do a lot of asking for things.  Luckily she isn’t automatically drawn to only awful-for-you stuff.  Yes, in the juice aisle we ended up with some juice solely because Elmo was on the label, and we ended up with Cap’n Crunch when I hadn’t planned on buying it.  But the juice was 100% juice, the Cap’n Crunch was on sale, so I can live with it.  And luckily for every one thing I say “yes” to, it buys me about ten “no’s”.  So I was able to say no to the bag of flour, and the Kosher anchovies, and the pineapple, and the Diet Snapple, and the feta cheese, and the little loaf of tiny bread for making finger food, and the cradle cap treatment baby shampoo, among other things, and she happily put each thing back where she found it (I think).  Occasionally she even spots something we need, although completely by chance.  I forgot to put bread crumbs on the list, and she happened to grab a can of bread crumbs.   But regardless, there was a lot of that.

Lane also contributed some periods of inertia.  The times where she just refused to move, for various reasons.  For example, the requirement that she wear both shoes through the store seemed especially contrary to her sensibilities today.  However, I’m the mom and I’m the boss, and the grocery store has rules.

Jake was there, but since he is the most mellow, cool dude in the history of the world, he spent most of the trip sitting in the shopping cart, one arm slung over the back of his seat, randomly babbling and smiling and flirting with the ladies.  He ate some cheese at the deli counter.  When the stuff in the cart got high enough for him to reach, he would take stuff out and inspect them, visually, tactilely, and gustatorily.   OK, so his flirting does often slow us down a little.  Most grocery trips I have to pause a dozen times while someone coos over him and asks me how old he is and what’s his name and tell me how he is just so cute and agreeable, and today was no different.  Kind souls, they usually try to engage Lane as well, but since she’d rather talk to a shrub than a strange person you can imagine how successful they usually are.

I definitely lost some time at checkout.  Our stellar checkout person, whose name was Prince but I’m guessing that isn’t literal, remembered to give me the 12¢ credit for my 6 reusable grocery bags but forgot to ask me for my shopper’s club card.  Sure, all the blame does not lie with him, I could have easily remembered to give it to him, too.  But I was managing two kids, and doing some bagging, and assuring him he could put more than three things in my reusable grocery bags, (and I do believe they are made of some space-age polymer because though they are a year old, they still look like I bought them yesterday despite the abuse they have received since then).  Also, might I point out, the whole checking people out is his job, and according to the front end manager who scolded him after she told me I had to go to Customer Service, he’s supposed to ask me twice for my card over the course of the transaction – once when he first starts ringing me out and once before I pay.  Ha ha, “Prince”, I got you in trouble.
Were we talking about saving 50¢  on one item I could have let it go… but I figured it was like $6 that Prince was trying to cheat me out of, so for HIS mistake I got to spend like 10 minutes at Customer Service while they went through my receipt and the sales circular to figure out how much they owed me.  It came to $6.24 so I was pretty close.

Still, it felt like I’d been there maybe 90 minutes by the time the car was loaded up with two kids and nine bags of groceries, so imagine my shock to find that nearly 3 hours had passed.  It’s going to be a couple of days before the bruise on my chin heals.

Needless to say, my plans to cook were out the window, and we had take-out for dinner.

Mission accomplished, mostly

Well out of the four bullets in my previous post, I got all four done.  Whoo hoo!

I did the Kathy Smith kickboxing workout.  (that link goes to the new version on DVD, that combines the VHS kickboxing I have with another workout, two workouts in one!!)  It’s such a good barometer for if I’m in shape.  When I was running walking/jogging regularly, I could do that video no problem.  Oh, I worked up a sweat and my heartrate got up, but I didn’t get completely out of breath and barely get my last kicks of a series off the ground.  Like happened today.

Took a long shower, took time to appreciate that our apartment came with a handheld shower head.  Picked out a cake and icing recipe and did the grocery shopping to get the few things I needed.  Forgot my wallet in the car and had to run to get it while I was getting checked out.  Fun times!

I didn’t wrap Jake’s presents — I forgot to put that on my four-point bullet list in the last post and thus it did not make it onto my mental bullet list.  Ooops.