Supermarket Madness


I've been looking forward to summer since last Fall. (That's right... Fall.) Here we are and it's summer! It's a cool, crisp day outside, even though it's August. It's all good. And I had those nice thoughts as I head for the supermarket to buy lemon juice. 

I backed into a parking spot, thinking I'd get one over on the people who, regardless of how far I crane my neck, appear behind my car every time I back out. When they really want to screw with my head, they jump out with a stroller or a cane. I mean it, they are dropped out of the sky just to roll their eyes at me, bang their fists on my trunk.

I began backing into a sweet spot closer to the front than usual when I remembered the last time I backed into a spot in a parking lot. That's when I found a ticket stuck in my windshield. I didn't see the sign that said "nose in only." I'd fight that, tell the judge: I'M FROM BROOKLYN, MAN, I WASN'T LOOKING FOR IT, OKAY? Albeit I hadn't lived in Brooklyn in twenty-five years, but I never will get used to certain things in Long Island. (Like why would anybody care which direction a car faces in a parkingspot?)

And why does the Town trim trees the way they do? Why do I have to be ashamed of my trees, my block? Does anybody else's across New York state look like a sickle? 

Back to the supermarket. While I mumbled, "Whatever," I felt flinchy, like I'd just robbed a bank. I went inside the supermarket. The moment the automatic doors opened, I felt the artic breeze and realized once a friggen gain that I was underdressed! The dang a/c! 

I ran up and down the aisles looking for lemon juice in a bottle, but I was so cold, it was hard to think logicially, and in our supermarket YOU HAVE TO, because you either need a jet powered aircraft to get you the distance of the store to customer service before the store closes or risk dying of hypothermia. Everything's so damned far!

Besides, we all know the humor about women and the refrigerated aisle. Is that why they freeze out entire stores? I ran up and down aisles with my arms crossed, like an Oompa Loompa, looking for my one product: lemon juice. Was it down bar fixers? Nope. Soda aisle? Nope. Spices and seasoning, cake mix aisle? Nope. Instead I saw products I never new existed. Gawd I was freezing. I wasn't alone, either. I saw a man standing frozen-like in an aisle, like the Tin Man, rubbing his elbow joint. I wanted to huddle, start a fire.

So why is it that we need to dress for the Antarctica in the supermarket when, in winter, a manager would freak out if his or her supermarket didn't have heat, call in a repairman? I know. I know. There are those of you out there who are shaking your fists, saying I LOVE that it's cold in supermarkets! That's just great for you. I guess I'll just dress for the supermarket, that's all.