Gkikas

Grocery Store Outing

Posted on June 17th, 2008 by Chris.
Filed under: Absurd, Florida Living, Friends, Rant, Weird Nights Out, Youtube.

The wife’s pregnant, and she needs milk for breakfast in the morning. We’re out of milk. It’s 9:30, Sweetbay’s not closed yet. I’m off.

The first thing I head for’s the milk, because I know where it is. I rarely shop in this grocery store. I’m usually at the dirt Publix three blocks from the house because it’s closer. But, they’re closed by 9 and Sweetbay’s open, so I’m in a strange grocery store with a mission to find some nonstandard items.

On my way to the milk, I see Edy’s Grand ice cream is on crazy sale, two for seven bucks. Lunatic flavors, too… Coconut Pineapple? Cherry Chocolate Chip, red velvet style? Shit.

So now I’ve got the milk, and the ice cream, which is melting. Fiber One bars. Where the hell are those? Cereal aisle.

Not there.

I needed apples, and they’re right over there. Braeburn? Cameo! $1.39/lb - Bang.

Ice cream’s melting. Shit. Fiber One bars. Shit.

I stop two girls in Sweetbay garb, even though they’re clearly off the clock and doing their own shopping. They were cool, though, and after I looked at them somewhat frantically after getting off the phone with my wife who said, “Ask someone,” I asked them about where I could find, you know, “chewy granola chocolate chip things, like I thought I’d find in cereal, but it wasn’t there.” Aisle 5. Thank God.

Ice cream’s melting, and the lines at the register are thick, so I head back over to dairy to swap out my now-softened crazy flavored ice creams with fresher, colder ice creams from the cooler. And on my way there, I see this black dude that looks just like Samuel L. Jackson, and he’s wearing a do-rag, and a Tucci t-shirt.

Tucci, Tucci…. where have I heard that before? Oh yeah, Wanee Festival. Some local dude, like a dentist or something, with a blues band. Was this the same black dude who jammed at the campground jam, and that I’d chatted with for a while before Junior Brown’s set? No, this was a different dude.

By now, I’ve gotten fresh ice creams and decide to make a break for it. Oh yeah, Sprite Zero. The pregnant wife’s got some odd dietary habits lately. Got it, so now I pick the least of all evils and go for Checkout Lane Six.

In front of me is a guy in one of those personal scooter motorized grocery shopping go-carts. He’s flipping through the magazines and knocks all the People magazines from its shelf in the rack. They spill all over the floor. Do I help him out? After a short pause, thinking, Yeah I should help this dude, I go for it and, as I’m stooping down to pick up the strewn mess, I say, “Lemme help out with that.”

“Oh, I’m not crippled, I’m just feeling lazy today.”

Feeling lazy today? Was he serious?

Sure enough, as the line inches forward and he motors up to the conveyor belt, he stands up out of the seat to hoist a gallon of milk or six-pack of beer or something onto the conveyor. I thought for a moment whether I should say something to him, but thought better of it and just laughed inside, wondering if he parked in a handicapped parking spot outside with the same rationale.

Behind me, there’s a guy that looks like Robert Duval, wearing a CB radio type thing hanging from his breast pocket with one of those curly cords going down to some receiver on his belt. He’s talking to himself pretty loudly. I realize he’s probably talking to someone on a wireless phone headset, and sure enough after a brief moment, he turned his head and I saw the Bluetooth piece.

This wasn’t just “Uh huh,” or “yeah, lemme call you back when I’m out of the grocery store,” this was a fairly animated conversation about hauling something made of aluminum. If I weren’t helping the non-cripple in front of me, I probably could have recalled more details about his can’t-wait conversation.

Now I’m at the register, and Lazy, ahead of me, is having problems with the debit card swipe. The checkout lady, now resorting to the “plastic bag AND backwards” swipe trick, looks at Robert Duval behind me, then glances at me and all I have for her is my best Jim Halpert smirk. She smiles at me with a quiet laugh as the plastic bag trick works and we watch Lazy scooter himself out with his loot.

“It’s like a Seinfeld episode,” I tell her as I grab my receipt.

“I know, isn’t it?” she replies, as I leave the Sprite Zero sitting there, walk out to my car and drive home to remember just now about the Sprite Zero. Shit.

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