Another day without squatting to buy
I’ve reached the age where I find myself asking clerks in the grocery store to help me find a particular blend of peanut butter. I don’t even eat peanut butter (but it was on my list). Why? Well, when faced with squatting in the aisle and getting all “Facetime” with an amazing array of similar products, or simply asking the lad with the inventory pistol to help me out, I know the rule. He might get to keep his job, because he seemed useful when the manager was crossing the floor; I get to wait to crawl around. Win/win.
I’m sure that folks in retail know just how much clients abjure a change of layout. Fresher? Save it for the spinach. On the whole, I want to know where things are. And my busy schedule (snickering) doesn’t allow me the leisure of rediscovering where the canned tuna might be (another thing that I rarely eat, but it pops up on the “list”).
There’s a sense of pride, when I return from the hunt with the variety of product I’m supposed to. No need to get back in the car and follow the winding hills and dales. In fact, if online shopping is ever a thing (you say it is??), I could be easily convinced to navigate through to a full cart. Delivered, of course. That could be my salvation, as the inevitable day of “you really shouldn’t be driving… peanut butter” creeps up.
Then, all I’ll have left is my role of “that old man who sits on the stoop and mumbles about past grocery shopping exploits”. Hope one of my kids will move back home before then.
