Shopping the big city/little village way

I've decided that it is fairly pathetic to drive the six blocks to the local grocery store for a bag of grub. When I get in there I always find things I'm pretty sure I need (Ben and Jerry's Key Lime Pie flavor? Limited batch? OH MY GOD I HAVE TO STOCK UP!) And then I end up lugging out three bags and an eight pack of toilet paper.

I've ingested enough television and read enough books to realize that people in big cities, New York say, often don't have cars. No cars! While that in itself is staggering enough, it results in people shopping at a local market and only buying as much as they can carry home. Likewise, it appears that people in Europe venture forth several times a week to the markets for small and toteable amounts of groceries. Why can't I do that? Granted, I may get odd looks from the neighbors after they catch on to my routine, but I doubt they'll label me a pinko for it.

So today was the first attempt. I boldly set out with my one reusable shopping bag and a goal. I would buy a few ears of corn, two zucchini, some sort of bread item for breakfast, and maybe some angel food cake since I'd been hallucinating the smell for a few hours. I threw my wallet in the bag, took the house key off of the pickup keys (no tempting fate for me!) and sallied forth.

The walk to the grocery store is pleasant enough. It's summer and there are lots of flowers to look at. I did hear my name once as I walked past some teenagers (there is no escape from students, even in summer) but I managed to avoid mishaps or long conversations. I got to the local store, which most of my circle of friends call Ghetto Safeway, and smugly strolled in with my one bag and my plan.

The goal of only a few items immediately was shot down by the smell of strawberries. I'm a very smell-oriented person. I once dumped a guy because he smelled like old people. It could be this is why I'm single. But I digress. The strawberries led to cherries and from there it was a quick slide to french bread, butter, and aluminum foil. I did get corn (5 ears, curse you ghetto safeway sale!) and zukes but I decided to reprimand myself and leave the angel food cake on the shelf.

With my now uncomfortably full bag threatening to separate my left shoulder, I turned towards home. What seemed a gradual sloping walk to the store now revealed itself as a six block walk uphill. Some positive self-talk was in order. "Ok, don't go at this like you're killing snakes. This is supposed to be a nice walk. Pace yourself!" Before long the heat and the french bread whacking me with each step were getting a little oppressive. I also was hoping not to need defibrillation only two blocks from my house. Have I mentioned that it has been a long while since the good people at the Y have seen me in the gym?

Luckily, I made it home. As I walked up my driveway my dogs barked as if I was an intruder wearing a mailman's uniform. It may take a while for all of us to get used to the new routine.
Sent on the Sprint® Now Network from my BlackBerry®