Darwin

It had been a lazy Sunday morning.  I had slept till almost 9 and then made a breakfast of sausage and pancakes for my son and I.  God I love lazy Sunday mornings, but it had its consequences.  All this wonderfulness had meant I was now doing the grocery shopping at the worst possible time…WHEN EVERYONE ELSE WAS.

It was the Sunday before Thanksgiving, you know that unique holiday that’s all about eating.  Think about it, no other holiday revolves around the meal as being the whole entire holiday.  Sure we eat and pig out on all the holidays…Memorial Day and the Fourth of July are big cook out days, but the days are celebrated for other things.  With Christmas there is a big meal but we all know what Christmas is really about….

* quiet voice* if you think its about the birth of Jesus, then how come nobody mentions that until like oh Christmas Eve?

No, Thanksgiving is unique for it is the feast that is celebrated, and yes I know we’re supposed to reflect on all that we’re thankful for, usually this happens either right before the meal when everyone can smell the cooked food, or right after the pumpkin pie and all everyone is thinking about is getting the prime seat on the couch.  This of course meant my local superstore was jam packed with people all with the same objective, get in, get out, get home.

Armed with my list…why was our list so big this week?, we weren’t even hosting Thanksgiving, and my shopping cart I took a deep breath and entered.

I think a grocery store on the Sunday before Thanksgiving must be one of the circles of Hell that Dante talks about.  The checkouts were already backed up as I entered, and I rather optimistically told myself that by the time I got done, the lines would be much shorter.  Oh, the things we tell ourselves to get through life, oh the things we tell ourselves.

People are usually very considerate when shopping, they step aside to let you pass if they’re looking at an item or they say “excuse me” if they need to get around you.  But this was not one of those days.  It quickly became apparent that the niceities were left in the parking lot.  Shopping carts were being used as bumper cars, the elderly were close to being trampled…in my defense there’s no reason to read labels on a day like this, just throw it in the cart and keep moving grandma.

One aisle was particularly backed up, there was so many people stopped in it, I couldn’t see what was going on.  Did shoppers come to blows over some canned gravy or boxed stuffing? Did shopping carts become entangled in some kind of horrific chain reaction type of accident?  Was blood being spilled for cranberries?  ( side note, I’ve never had cranberries, I have no desire to try them and why blood would be spilled for them is a mystery to me, but it could happen.)  It was so bad, people were turning their carts around and heading back out from where they came, creating even more havoc.  I finally got close enough to see what had happened, one of those scooter carts that are normally populated by the elderly had run out of power and was “dead” in the aisle.  Tensions were running high, people were no longer muttering under their breath but muttering very vocally.  Finally, store personal brought a “tow truck” like contraption to tow the scooter and the old person in it out of the way and to the nearest plug.  I hope there was another scooter for her and she didn’t have to sit in it till it was fully charged again, but she might have, because I never saw her again.

I double checked my list, I’m not sure I would have gone back to that war zone even if I did forget anything, and I headed to the checkouts, hoping that there was no line.

I quickly found a checkout with only 1 lady in it, yay for me.  Unfortunately, the conveyor belt was already full, her cart was only half empty and improbably she had more merchandise piled on the floor.  I instantly began to hate her.  She was a stylish, older lady in black leggings, with an Apple watch and a little bit too much makeup.  It was evident that she was hosting Thanksgiving.  On the conveyor belt was a turkey, some potatoes and a sure fire dead give away, the boxed wine.

I turned around to see a younger couple had entered our lane.  They had two children, a toddler who was touching every candy bar and pack of gum and a small baby in its car seat in the cart.  The parents had a zombie like look on their faces, which I’m betting was not there when they entered the store.  It was a look I had seen before and had even experienced.  It was the look of a young couple who had made the horrific mistake of going shopping as a family.  I remember making the same mistake once or twice many years ago, and since then grocery shopping had become a solo excursion.

The mom was bent over the shopping cart inches from her child’s face doing that baby talk thing that parents do, as if talking like this makes it more easy for the baby to understand you.

“You have gas don’t you, yes you do, yes you do, I know that look, it means you have gas.”

Wait, what….?

“Honey, I think he has gas,” she was now talking to her husband, but he wasn’t paying attention, he was looking past me and as I turned around I saw what had averted his attention from his baby talking wife, gassy child and candy bar touching toddler.  Ms. Black Leggings and Apple watch was bent over her shopping cart retrieving the items at the very bottom of the cart, a 12 pack of White Claw and scented candles.  Ah, it all made sense now, her Friday was all planned.  After the relatives left, she could sleep in on Friday, have some friends over, probably also wearing black leggings, break out the White Claw and fire up the scented candles.

“You’re pushing aren’t, yes you are, yes you are.  I can tell when you’re pushing, you’re little fists get all balled up and you get that look on your face when your pushing.”

Oh good lord….

“Honey, he’s pushing now, can you tell, I can tell when he’s pushing.”  Although his attention was still on Ms. Black Leggings, the husband did mutter “pushing.”  Finally the wife slapped her almost drooling husband on the shoulder to snap him back to reality.

“We’re going to have to change him before we go.”

The husband gave a resigned sigh, a sigh I had experienced as a young parent, the realization that you’ll be changing a diaper in the most unlikeliest of places.  By this time I had piled my groceries on the conveyor belt and there was still room on the end, and I had the sudden realization that they might try use the end of the conveyor belt as some kind of changing table.  So I grabbed one of those plastic conveyor belt dividers and I slapped that thing down at the very end of the belt.  Perhaps I did it too harshly but I think I made my point.  Nobody messes with the divider, it is one of the most powerful pieces of plastic ever invented.  Have a property line dispute with a neighbor, just grab a handful of grocery store conveyor belt dividers, lay those down and problem solved.  As I turned to look at the couple, they had a look on their faces, it appeared that they were judging me… hmmph the nerve of some people.

My groceries were bagged and paid for and I was seconds from making my escape, but there was just one more obstacle to navigate.  There was only 1 exit door working and like a lane closure on the highway, people were trying to merge into the line to get out the door.  I stood there surveying the situation, and at just the right time, just after someone came through the “In” door, I darted out through the “In” door.

I was out, I had made it, I had survived.  I had broken a few rules, but that’s who I am, a rule breaker.  Sure some elderly might have been pushed aside and some small children might have been insulted and left crying, but it was survival of the fittest in there.

As I scanned the parking lot, only one thought crossed my mind….if only I could remember where I parked my car.