Strongly Worded

Shopping Gone Awry

So I've been quite thrifty these quite few months, after quitting my decently-paying yet soul-sucking job in favor of teaching and contract work (and the search for a permanent position).

Thus, I have started patronizing Market Basket (also pronounced Mark-ey Bask-ey, in the spirit of Target/Tar-gey), a locally owned grocery store with the motto "More for your dollar."

Market Basket is shockingly cheaper than my closer-to-home-chain-store-that- caters-to-young-professionals. Because it also offers all sorts of ethnic foods and amazing and affordable produce, I have come to enjoy shopping there, even though there is sawdust on the floor in some slippery attempt at something. But I've been warned that one should never, ever try to shop at MB over the weekend, because it is insanely crowded. Thus far I've only gone on weeknights, and even then it is quite crazy. Young professionals do not shop there. People with turbans, lots and lots of screaming children, and sexy Brazilian accents are the main clientele. Customers stock up on unbelievable quantities of pretty much everything. And I'm talking about multiple gallons of milk and sides of beef. Seriously. You need two magazines to make it through the checkout line, even under the best of circumstances.

Because I no longer have time/energy to shop during the week, I made the misguided decision to check out MB on a Sunday night. There was no parking. After circling for 15 years, and considering aborting the mission, I finally found an (occupied) spot about six miles from the store, and put on my blinker (as E. has taught me), to "reserve" the space. A woman drove in from the opposite direction and used obscene, enraged gestures to convey that, in fact, the space was hers. She was wearing a sari. I thought: aren't your people all full of Ghandi-like tolerance? I was not going to fight over a parking space. I refused to look at her, then yielded and parked even further away.

I cannot begin to describe the mayhem in the store. It was mobbed. I spent way too long gathering and paying for my items and then headed to the yuppie grocery store, where I bought shampoo and stuff-- and then mascara -- because I got a coupon that kicked in with purchases over $20. Also I bought bread because MB does not carry the brand that I like. While shopping, I was accosted by a fucking elf trying to push cookies and eggnog on me, and I was all, "Elf, your costume sucks, I hate your gross processed offerings, and it's fucking early November and what happened to waiting until after Thanksgiving before assaulting me with your holiday cheer?" (Except I didn't actually say any of this out loud.)

When I got home I realized that I had left the bread in the store (stupid self-checkout).I opened the mascara and found immediately that it was royal blue (I wear mascara maybe six times a year and my current mascara was purchased in high school. So there is no way royal blue has any chance of getting play.). And no longer returnable. So my endless economical, multi-cultural shopping expedition was offset by maybe ten dollars of useless purchases. And a run-in with elves.

Posted by Dori at 8:31 AM