We’re like forest animals seeing the headlights of a car for the first time. Blinking, we freeze, in a confused daze, suddenly at odds with our environment. We are … men in a grocery store.
Okay, I can already sense the outrage from some of you. But trust me. If you are of the male persuasion, and find yourself at home in the hazardous, oblique aisles of a Kroger, Publix or (shudder) Ingles supermarket, you’re not normal.
When I was a youngster, I discovered that I had an almost supernatural ability to find things using the infamous Dewey Decimal system. I remember clearly taking the standardized Iowa test as an elementary student, and scoring in the 99th percentile when it came to knowing where to go to find pertinent information. Mom proudly explained that that meant that the only person I wasn't better at, in that regard, was me! I don’t have the most logical mind in the world, but I appreciate the order and common sense that the structure of a library affords. Why then, I’ve often wondered, didn’t Dewey come up with a similar system for store shelves? Clearly, Mrs. Dewey did all the shopping.
Nowadays, however, there is a need for order. As households continue to require two sources of income to survive, more and more men are venturing into this coupon littered universe, where logic is non-existent. Where green olives are stored three aisles away from their black counterparts (even segregation continues in these barbaric places), and eggs are moved away from milk, butter and cheese at the whim of a store manager desperate not to appear complacent in his merchandising duties. Where paper goods are kept in one place without fail, yet Silly Putty and chip clips can pop up anywhere and everywhere.
Even store loyalty doesn’t help. The Publix on Freedom Parkway in Cumming is laid out completely differently from the one on Thompson Bridge Road in Gainesville. The Krogers throughout the land are different, too. And most of the Ingles’ that I have encountered appear to have been laid out almost at random, almost as if it just doesn’t matter!
I was so excited the day that I downloaded my Kroger smartphone app! This is great, I thought. They’re asking me for my zip code so that I can choose my “favorite” store! Surely this now means that my shopping list will sort by aisle, so that I don’t go through three pairs of shoes just trying to secure a week’s worth of groceries. No such luck! Not sure WHY they wanted my zip code, but it still required me to have provisions ON me for shopping expeditions, lest I starve to death in aisle 4 gazing at the array of baking sodas versus baking powders.
By now, all the women out there are laughing at us, guys. Because they KNOW I speak the truth. We’ve all seen the women in the markets, blithely going about their business, as if it makes all the sense in the world to store Splenda next to tuna fish. They are organized to the HILT … that is until they get to the checkout line and try and find the Kellogg’s coupon that they KNOW they put somewhere …
I ran into a guy in the pickle aisle the other day. He had a three day growth of beard, a bedraggled expression on his face and just kept muttering … “black beans … black beans … black beans …” I offered to help, and he just shook his head sadly and said, “no. It’s too late for me. Save yourself!”
I’m thinking I might try Amazon’s new grocery service. Although I don’t think the milk will be good, even with Prime two-day shipping. At the very least, when the time comes, I’ll be able to find the library book that delineates the advancement of the modern day supermarket as the declining moment of Western civilization.
