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Wednesday, November 23, 2011

The Grocery Store Frequent Flyer Program

I propose a complete reordering of society.  A revolution, if you will.  Nah, not a political one, but for grocery shopping.  I'll get to all that in a minute.

As some of you know, I was drafted as the family grocery shopper dude during that dark period when the thought of food made Majesty turn pale and retch her cute little guts out.  And I've learned a few things.

The grocery store can be an intimidating place for men.  I've no idea what a good comparative metaphor would be, here.  Maybe a gym?  Let's use the gym.  Many women would walk into the freeweight/dumbbell section of a gym with at least a little unease.  It's (mainly) the Other Side's turf.  Same goes for grocery stores.  The people that really know what they're doing in there, the consummate professionals, are those fee-mail type people.  Guys are generally just sent on bumbling, one-off sorties to retrieve cold cuts and tubs of Cool Whip.

Of course, we men know roughly where our subsistence foods are (there are about five, and I'll leave those to your imagination) but that's it.  We have no clue where dried porcini mushrooms, applesauce and pita bread are.  None.  And we're not going to ask.  Because, y'know, we're men.

But I stand before you, the exception.  I now know (most) grocery shopping secrets.  I know where canned beans live.  I know how to acquire fresh catbah filets.  I know where they park the Desitin.  I have gathered this hard-won knowledge in the sub-zero corridors of the frozen food section.  I learned it by braving the 125 degree parking lot with single-bagged half-gallons of ice cream in August.  I've cheated certain death with moms in Audi Q7s trying to run me down out there.

And I bring a certain ruthlessness to grocery shopping.  I will cut off old ladies in the produce section.  I will look the other way, pretending not to see you as we both speed toward the same free cashier (I'll 'accidentally' get there first).  I will shamelessly step in front of any obliviot chatting aimlessly on a cellphone.  I will bump you (not too hard) if you're texting in the dead middle of the grocery aisle.  I will take the last one, without apology.

Because I'm on a mission, dang it.

And that brings me to my revolution.  We have to streamline the grocery shopping experience for the benefit of all humanity.  We must separate the professionals from the hoi palloi.  We need... a frequent flyer program.  For grocery stores.  You heard me.

When you shop, you get points.  Those points accrue.  But here's the kicker:  During peak shopping times like Saturdays and holidays, we only admit folks with a certain level of points.  So at 5pm the Tuesday before Thanksgiving?  No amateurs allowed.  Only the grown folks are in there, bro.  If you're like the two men I actually observed looking for cloves of fresh garlic on the spice aisle, you're gone.  We'll let you in at midnight.  Wanna shop at 3am?  Great.  Knock yourself out.

Who's with me?!

1 comment:

Mike said...

I like it! And this coming from one who not be first in line that Tuesday night before Thanksgiving. But I think we could extend this thought to many different applications - driving comes to mind first and foremost.

Also, I support the use of "obliviot."