I’ve decided grocery stores are the perfect place for observing human nature. There’s a lot going on in the psychological undercurrent of your local grocery store that I think is noteworthy. Or maybe I just need to get more of a life. But nonetheless I’ve being noticing some interesting things about myself and my fellow cart pushers.
Speaking of carts, my tendency is to stash mine in as much of an out-of-the-way spot as possible and head unencumbered down an aisle to grab, say, applesauce and olives. I’m convinced it will be more efficient than having to maneuver my cart through the maze of others shoppers trying to likewise maneuver their carts. (Can you say, “Bumper Cars?”)
Of course, on my way to gather my applesauce and olives, I spy the imported vanilla from Madagascar that I read about in some magazine, and lo and behold, it’s right next to a jar of artichoke Meyer lemon tapanade (that sounds far better than it tastes), and I realize how much happier my family will be if we have these items in our pantry. And before I know it, I’m shuffling down the aisle with cans of mandarins underneath my chin, packages of pasta under my armpits, and I don’t even remember what … nor can I look down to check … between my knees.
But the fun really begins when my now overflowing cart and I go looking for the shortest checkout line. If I’m on top of my game I’ve brought at least one of my kids with me. I’ve spent years training my kids how to strategically position themselves in other lines and communicate with first-base-coach-like signals when they think we should all converge into their superior checkout lane.
The very best thing that can happen to me on any given day, short of winning the lotto or my kid scoring a 100 percent on a math test, is correctly predicting which new cashier stand is going to open up while I’m at the end of a very long line. It takes a high level of concentration, which can be difficult to maintain in the over-stimulating environment of your typical grocery store, but on a few very special … dare I say magical(?) ... days, I’ve known the joy of catching the eye of the fresh cashier as he/she is just flicking on his/her lane light. I deftly pull out from the rear of the pack and, carefully avoiding eye contact with any of my fellow shoppers, make a beeline for the newly opened station. Ah, victory.
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