What is it about the grocery store that brings about such passionate emotions in me? Why is it that almost every time I go to the grocery store I end up in some kind of …. encounter? 

Today, Im feeling pretty cheery. The weather is unseasonably warm- almost spring-like. In honor of that, I go in search of rack of lamb. (spring lambs and all that… )

Immediately I notice that my produce man friend who most of you now know as “veggie man” is no where to be seen. Perhaps he is hiding but no matter, I am in no mood to tangle with him today even though there is great cause. Great cause, indeed.

To my right is a bin with a sign above it that clearly states: Blood Oranges. In the bin are mangoes. While pondering this I decide that it might just be Veggie Man’s idea of a joke. He will go home this evening with a smirk and laugh over his plate of fresh kale and know that some hapless shopper made a blood orange sauce out of mango. I suppose we all have our petty torments. 

Something else that vexes me greatly. Why do we need entire bins for things like burdock root? WHO buys these items? In all my shopping days, I have never once seen a person at the check out with a basket full of burdock root. Ive never even seen anyone with ONE burdock root. Surely someone must be purchasing these items but WHO?

And another question. Why bundle popular items like asparagus and broccoli TOGETHER in one bin while giving burdock its own? It makes me wonder about my little Veggie Man and what might have happened to him as a child. 

Anyway. Lovely rack of lamb selected along with some other items I head down the aisle where the olive oil resides. Half way down and in the MIDDLE of the aisle with her cart turned at an angle so absolutely no one can get around her, is one of our own Real Housewives of Johnson County in her lavender yoga outfit chatting away on her phone. She had several of those reusable”earth” bags in her cart to haul her groceries in and nothing else.

 I dislike her immediately. 

Shoppers are beginning to queue up on either side of her cart, each looking too timid to ask her to move lest they interrupt her very important phone call. I observed this for a moment or two, pushing my way through the 4 shoppers that were on my side. The woman never even ONCE looked at any of the others, nor did she move her cart. The conversation seemed to involve a discussion around a play date for her toddler and how she wasn’t sure that she wanted him to associate with some other child. I for one had enough. I may have been the only one. 

In the moments before I took action I imagined the other shoppers cheering for me and clapping and thanking me for saving the day. Of course how we imagine things is rarely the way they work out. I pushed past the shy looking man who was closest to her cart and could see that he just wanted to get past. I nodded him out of the way, letting him know with just my eyes that real help had arrived. Chatty Cathy continued to lean on her cart and ramble, not looking at anything in particular. I eased my cart toward hers and then, bumped it. 

Ok, it was more than a bump but less than a crash. Well, crash was the sound it made but not quite the intent. “Cathy” turned around quickly with a shocked look on her face, looking from her cart to me and back to her cart. “Pardon me” I said. Pushing again a little less forcefully. It was clear that her cart was not only blocking me but the other 7 people who surrounded her. She then acted as if she just realized she wasn’t the only person in the entire store. 

I looked at my fellow shoppers, waiting for support (or cheers!) and all I saw were cowering sheep! So much for my hero’s welcome. Moving her cart just the tiniest bit as if to kindly accommodate me, she narrowed her eyes at me and waved me around with one perfectly manicured hand, still clutching the phone to her ear with the other. 

This was a line in the sand. I wasn’t going to try and squeeze past her, oh no. The man decided he wanted no part of this and crept away pushing his cart in the other direction. The two women on my side stood with their mouths open, ready to scurry at my next move. The elderly woman on the other side of the obstruction stood with her arms folded as if she were a referee about to throw a flag.

I pulled my cart back a little and then PUSHED hard knocking Cathy’s cart over to the side and bumping it in to her pristine yoga outfit making her nearly drop her phone. 

Plowing past, I glanced at her over my shoulder seeing her face aghast with disbelief and now wordless.  I dismissed my fellow spineless shoppers and moved on.

As I reached the point nearest to her, I leaned closer and said calmly, “Two words… CART MANAGEMENT.”

I peeked back only once seeing the rest of the shoppers cautiously moving around her while she stood in immovable shock. 

Lamb chops for dinner dears! 

I LOVE A GOOD SATURDAY!