I opened the Shopping List that mom sent to my email.
I had volunteered to go to “The Pig” to get the groceries she needed.
“Oh. This is a lot. I thought you just needed some milk and maybe eggs,” I said as I stared at the 30 items on the list.
“You can un-volunteer if you want to.”
“No. No. I’ll get it. It’s just so much,” I said as I ran my hand through my hair.
I had volunteered because I’m listening to a podcast, and I enjoy listening while I drive. But, because of gas prices, I don’t drive through the country much anymore. I can’t justify it. It’s just going around wasting expensive gas.
So, whenever I can justify driving, I drive. —And listen to Podcasts, Books, and Old Timey Radio.
Going through the list, I knew it would take Mom a good 2 hours to get everything on the list. She browses. She compares. I don’t.
I figured out that I could get in and out in 30 minutes.
I grabbed the keys and took off for “Piggly Wiggly.” I left at 5:45 CST.
At 5:58, I arrived at “The Pig,” and by 6:00 CST, I was inside shopping.
I was magnificent. Beautiful. I moved with cat-like reflexes.
I tossed the Bananas in the bag and into the buggy.
Next were the Lemons, Carrots, Celery, and Asparagus.
Everyone moved out of my way.
One lady’s jaw dropped, and I overheard her say to the person she was talking to on the phone, “Honey, it’s over. I just found ‘The One.'”
An older gentleman said, “That man knows how to shop.” He then turned to his wife and said, “That’s how you do it, honey.”
I slid my cart into the Chip aisle and threw two bags of Pretzels in my buggy on my way to the Dairy section.
On the Dairy Aisle, I got two big hunks of Extra Sharp Cheese.
Then six sticks of Cream Cheese.
I was on my way to the Bakery to get some Baked Bread when the front driver-side tire on my buggy locked up. I jerked the buggy backward and then pushed it forwards, and it unlocked. I grabbed the bread and threw it in the buggy.
Two boxes of Strawberry Jello.
Back to the Vegetable section to get Broccoli.
There was no stopping me. I was a machine. I was lightning. I was on fire.
Two boxes of French Onion Soup.
Spinach.
Strawberries.
I visited every Aisle twice, but I did it so fast that no one noticed.
Then to the check-out.
Two teenage girls were working the check-out—One running the register and one bagging.
The one running the register had just broken up with her boyfriend, “Chad.”
And just like that, everything came to a halt.
I tapped my fingers on the counter.
I tapped my feet to the rhythm of the overhead music.
“I think Chad likes Angela…” She says to the other.
I run my hands through my hair.
“I don’t see him liking Angela. You see him liking Angela?”
“Yeah, I do.”
I hum. “Hmm, hmm, hmm, hm.”
“$143.75, Sir.”
“Yes!” I exclaim, and I swipe my card.
I push my buggy out the door and get back to my vehicle by 6:30 CST.
And that’s how I shop.
