I made the mistake of going to a grocery store on a Sunday afternoon. My friend Kate and I popped into the ShopRite to grab a few things. Once through the doors, we surveyed the produce section. The cart traffic jam, complete with noisy collisions and hand gestures, started at the oranges and ended all the way back at the olive bar. We each grabbed a basket and decided no fruit was worth braving that mob. The aisles of the store were reminiscent of a game of Pac-Man, an unsporting game of Pac-Man though.
General observations - Sunday afternoon grocery shoppers scowl a lot. Also, they make sharp turns with their carts and, for the most part, they don’t say “excuse me.” And as I recall how my bruised shin throbbed on Monday morning, I’d like to note that grocery shopping on a Sunday afternoon can be downright painful.
In an attempt to avoid the coffee aisle (packed) and the chip aisle (jam-packed), Kate and I ventured down the pet food aisle to reach the cold section in the back. There was only one man halfway down, which meant it would be nearly impossible to be slammed with a cart or bumped by a running child. He knelt on the ground with his back to us. The man lacked the joy of a child playing in the sand at the beach, but the motions were the same. As we got closer, we realized that the gentleman in the black and red checkered flannel was scooping kitting litter into a ripped back. His hands were dull gray and he muttered softly. He craned his neck as he heard someone approach.
“I didn’t spill this,” he said as we passed.
“Well, kudos to you for helping to clean it up. You’re a good Samaritan,” I said.
“Or a dumb one,” he said. Then, he angrily grunted.
“Well, on behalf of whoever spilled it - thanks. You rock.” I said.
Grocery shop on Tuesday nights. Grocery shop on Friday mornings. But, don’t ever grocery shop on Sunday afternoons. If you avoid the grocery store on Sunday afternoons, your shins and spirit will remain unharmed.