Grocery Store Throwdown

Alan and I went to the grocery store together some time ago. I can't remember exactly when it was; occasionally we'll take the kids to the store with us, but in this particular memory, there is no rambunctious kid(s), nor is there grocery-kid-stress. (Grocery-kid-stress is a legitimate thing; I took my mom to the store with the kids when she was visiting and she said she felt like we were sprinting. It's because I do because you never know when the kids will melt down, and it's always a race against the clock.) So if I had to guess, it was a trip to the store when it was just us and Avery --- so a few years ago, maybe?

Before I get to that, let me tell another tale. It adds depth to the story because it'll let you in on some of the Jersey flavor I get at the grocery store. I was at the store with Avery and Owen over the summer, pregnant at the time with Emery. I had the two kids in the car cart, and that thing is unwieldy. It occupies the kids with the fun steering wheel and race car, yes, but damn if that thing isn't impossible to steer. So I steered right into an endcap of baking chocolate. I knocked at least a hundred of them off, leaving my cart and tons of chocolate blocking the aisle. The kids and I started to pick them up and put them back on the shelves, and this older gentleman, I mean, man because he was not gentle, came upon the scene. He looked at us, gave an audible sigh, and headed in the other direction to go down another aisle. Now, he was in no way obligated to help me, but he didn't have to be so put out and such a drama queen about it. After all, I was the one picking up all the chocolate; all he had to do was walk around.   

Anyway. Alan and I were grocery shopping. I was pushing the cart. I came to the end of an aisle and a lady was parked with her cart perpendicular to the aisle so that she was completely blocking my way. I said excuse me and while she didn't say anything, the hostility was palpable. And the look she gave me...it was an event. And she took her sweet time moving out of my way --- like 15 seconds, which, when you're having a standoff at the end of a grocery store aisle, is an eternity. It was so long that I actually considered the possibility that she might not move, which is just a Seinfeld-type of thing because people aren't that crazy in real life. So Alan and I had a moment of "What in tarnation just happened?" and then we went about our day.

So the other day I was grocery shopping. I had gone through the baking aisle for flour, but had forgotten Bisquick so I had to head back. A woman's cart was in the middle of the aisle, so I couldn't get by on either side. I said excuse me like a normal human, and the lady goes, "Are you actually going to buy anything on this aisle?" Only yelling. She was yelling. Taken aback just a bit, I gave a half-laugh-scoff and said, with attitude and a frown, "Yeah, it's right there, why?" She went on to yell at me that I'd already been down the aisle THREE TIMES. (False. She was a liar.) I said, "Yeah, SOMETIMES PEOPLE FORGET THINGS AND HAVE TO GO BACK."

After I'd procured my Bisquick and gotten safely to the next aisle, I could still hear her ranting and raving. I was wondering what I had done to piss her off so severely on my first pass down the baking aisle, but I don't think her craziness was about me. Because I remember her dropping swear words as I'd walked by the first time and thinking I was glad the kids weren't with me, and that time I'm pretty sure she was cursing about a product not being in the right location. Plus, she had bright blue eye shadow and it was applied in triangle shapes, so I think the crazy ran pretty deep.

As funny as it is, I was really bothered by the whole situation. I mean, I knew people in Jersey like to get seriously outraged for no apparent reason, but I dislike confrontation to a fault. When I get to do the shopping by myself, it's peaceful. I'm not supposed to be yelled at. If I wanted to be yelled at, I'd just go home and take away Halloween candy or something.

Alan did make an excellent point though as I was recounting the story. "Why was SHE in the baking aisle for so long?" I'll insert the joke about her being around the nuts here, but I have a feeling she is a Chronic Aisle Blocker who tries to stir up trouble. She simply has to be the same lady who blocked the aisle for me so long ago. There cannot be more than one of these people around. One thing is for sure though: If she makes a habit of that blue makeup, I won't forget her face again.