Grocery Store Karma

In 8 months of getting a job being my job, I had forgotten that things like grocery shopping have to be done even though I am tired at the end of the work day. I pushed the August 31 expiration date on Sweeney's milk as far as I could this morning.

I also forgot that many other princesses are facing the same reality, making the grocery store something of a battlefield at 5:30 on a Wednesday evening.

It started in the parking lot when some fit young chick, with healthy knees, whipped her convertible into the parking place I had clearly marked as my own. Knowing full well that I'm not sure yet who is who from where in the new workplace, I refrained from flying the aged old gesture of contempt lest fit chick turn out to be the customer service rep in cubicle number one.

Then I had to stalk an old lady in the parking lot and offer to help with her bags in order to secure a cart.

Finally in the store, ready to shop, list in clenched fist, I hit the aisles with the efficiency of a drill sargeant. And the appetite of a starved recruit.

Note to self.....$167.20, that's why those who know tell us not to grocery shop when hungry.

The other princesses were shopping on the same budget plan--empty shelves greeted me when I went looking for the 10/$10 zippered baggies for my princess lunches. And the B1G1 smoked sausages were a waste without the 10/$10 buns. The place looked like a hoard of locusts had buzzed through in advance of a blizzard warning.

I managed to fill the cart anyway--Cheetos and string cheese are a perfectly acceptable lunch--and staggered toward the mile long check out lanes. Seven lanes open, six are on hiatus while Bagger Boy runs price checks. I contemplate my strategy. Go for the one moving lane or play the long shot that the short non-moving lane will kick into high gear as soon as Bagger Boy nabs a 128 ounce apple juice. As I mentally run the percentages I see fit chick cut off two old ladies and a pregnant mom in the 20 items and under lane. Still muzzled by her vague familiarity to CSR #1, I feel vindicated when I'm tapped on the shoulder by a cashier and told to move over to where she's opening a new lane.

YES! In a move more of vengeance than nice, I bring one of the old ladies and very preggy mom with me to the newly opened lane.

There's a pleasant glow of karma kicking ass as we walk past pushy fit chick impatiently smoothing cash which the under 20 items mechanical cashier repeatedly rejects.