Aisle Be There.....Eventually!

Welcome to 2012.  And just when I'd got myself familiarised with where everything was in the store in 2011, the store decides to have a bit of a laugh.

Do you know what I mean?   I go into the store and head straight down the cereal aisle only to discover that the boxes of cereal have vanished and have been replaced with various brands of dog and cat food.  Suddenly, I wonder if I've entered a parallel universe, an alternate reality, or maybe entered the wrong store.

And so, visualise this, I wandered aimlessly around the store, terrified that I would go from aisle to aisle and not find the "Special K" or the drastically reduced packets of "Pop Tarts".   What if I ended up an aisle expecting to find the breakfast items only to realise that I was in the middle of the ladies undies section?   What if I ended going down the wrong aisle and shudder, discovered I had become married?

So why do they do this?   Why the urge to rearrange the shop that had become so familiar?  To keep us alert?   No, me thinks it may well be a ploy to get us so confused that we impulse buy and end up with not only a lot of exercise, but a lot of extra junk we didn't really want.  Not surprisingly, the milk is in its usual location and that would be at the back of the store.

Now then, you may well ask, 'Gary, for goodness sakes man!  Why didn't you just ask a friendly shop attendant where the cereal was now located?'   And well you may ask.  Okay, time to stereotype us dudes.  Dudes asking for directions?   You must be joking.   Heck, get lost driving around a strange town without a map or a Sat Nav and do you think we are going to ask for directions?   Heck no.   I mean I'm sure the place we want to go is just around the next corner...

After much strolling about in the store making out like I knew what I was doing, I found the cereal.   Time to go to the checkout, a minute before closing and pay for the Special K, the drastically reduced packets of Pop Tarts, various brands of dog and cat food and um.....some ladies undies....and help!.... A marriage certificate!.....

Sorry Store Stories.

Hey, hey!   Wasn't that fun trying to say the title of this posting?   Being sober, may or may not be of help.   So here are some sorry store story situations stated simply. 

  

I went and locked my front door with my car key and started up the house.  Then I went to my car and wondered why it wouldn't work.   Upon realising I was using my house key, I laughed hysterically, got weird looks from my neighbours and eventually proceeded of on my little excursion. 

Upon arriving at the supermarket, much to my delight, I saw an empty car space.  That would be the car space that was quickly taken by a lady driving a Land Rover full of screaming kids.

Thus, after several minutes of curb crawling.....um looking for a parking space, I finally got a location to park, three miles from the store entrance.  

First of all, I needed to go to the post office and very conveniently, the post office is located within the supermarket.   I couldn't believe my luck that there was only one customer in the post office.   That was the good news.  The bad news was there was only one staff member working at the time and the customer ahead of me was having gigantic parcels sent to every corner of the planet.  Half an hour later, it was finally my turn.  I only went in for a couple of second-class stamps.  Yes, in Britain, even stamps have a class system.

Finally, clutching onto my second-class stamps, I headed into the supermarket.   I grabbed a basket and went to get the usual items, you know, those items that they deliberately place at the back off the store, such as milk.  Because, like I've mentioned before, they are hoping that other temptations along the way to the milk aisle, will cause you to impulse buy.   Thus you walk out of the shop with your pint of milk and a 55 inch, high definition, colour television.

Anyway, strolling down the aisles, skilfully avoiding the angry mob at the 'reduced price' section, I bumped into my doctor.  "Hi doc", I stated.   '"Hi Gary", he replied.   So there we were, exchanging pleasantries and  I had this visual of the time he had on a surgical glove and um proceeded to um.....

Now it was time to go to the 'Express' 'Baskets Only' check-out.   I note one of my pet peeves.  The basket handles of a basket, three down, has it handles folded in and thus the stack of baskets is in disarray.  I have to straighten out the handles and stack the baskets neatly.  I make sure the handles on my basket are placed folding out.  The shopper behind me places their basket on the stack with the handles folded inwards.

In front of me, is the 'oblivious' customer who has brought a shopping trolley to the baskets only check-out.  She has purchased half the store.   The cashier looks at me and shrugs her shoulders.  And I wait and I wait.  The check-out next to the one I'm at, suddenly opens and a bunch of customers who were after me, rush over and of course, are out of the store before me.   

At last, bag of groceries packed, I went to the counter at the entrance.   This would be the counter where you can buy lottery tickets.   There is only one person in front of me.  Once again, that might seem to be good news.   So what does this person do?   Well she buys twenty scratch cards, of which, she insists on scratching,  right then and there.  She then purchases Lotto this and Lotto that.   And just when you think she is about to leave, the lady gets the cashier to run through all her previous zillion tickets from Lotto this and Lotto that, through this machine to see if she has won anything.   She has not.   I was hoping she might have won the big one and would never return.    So, after fifteen minutes of twiddling my thumbs, whistling, smiling through gritted teeth and staring at the ceiling, I bought my newspaper......

Exhausted, I traipsed back to my car.   Of course, that would be the same car that seemed to have vanished, because it was either stolen or I couldn't remember where I'd parked it.  However, after much roaming around and under the watchful eye of the store's security guard, I found my car and put in my groceries.

I was about to drive home when I remembered that a store nearby had been taken over by new management and I was curious to see what was on offer.  I went in and was amazed by the huge Halloween section.  I saw a lady I recognised from behind, as being someone I'd had some pleasant chats with.   She was playing with a scary Halloween doll that made a screaming noise.   I went up to her and said, "Boo!  Very spooky!"  She turned around and it was a total stranger......

Back in my car and time to go home.   This time I used the key to the car to start it.....

What's In Store For Me?

So off I went for yet another one of my supermarket adventures.  Hmmmm....I wonder what's in store for me?  I proceeded over to one of the 'free cash' machines, which turns out, just like all the other times, to not be free cash, at all.  No, darn it, it comes out of my account.  Anyhow, I entered my 'P.I.N' number, only  to find out that the machine was temporarily unavailable.  Why couldn't it say that on the screen and have saved me the effort of slapping in my card?
Now then, one of the supermarkets I frequent, has been undergoing a major renovation.  The 'reduced section' has been moved, but the evidence of its whereabouts are very evident.  I noted the poor guy with the scanner that marks down the prices.  Luckily for him, and for me, there were no 'old rage' pensioners in sight.  I told him that he deserved 'danger pay' and I would do my utmost to protect him from the impending angry mob.  He laughed and very carefully passed over some greatly reduced garlic chicken kievs.
Unscathed and very relieved, I moved on.  Then it happened.  'Thump!'  I realised that someone had shoved a shopping cart right up my butt.  Did this person apologise?  Ummm....no.  In fact, the culprit who was pushing her trolley up the middle of the aisle, just kept on gabbing away to the old dude she was with.  Usually, I would not make a fuss.  Today would be the exception.  'Ah..hello?  Excuse me, but I really don't appreciate you ramming your trolley up my ass!'  The couple looked at me in disgust and just kept on gabbing away.   The outrageous audacity of me.
Me, Mr. battered bum, headed for the final destination.  Yep, I headed for the delights of the checkout counter.  I always take into consideration that there might be folks waiting behind me when it comes to my turn.  If this be the case, I keep my conversation with the cashier to the minimum.  So why did the lady in front of me think it was perfectly okay to tell the cashier her life's story?  Oblivious to me, she talked on and on and on and on....  How fascinating to find out that she was going to the beauty salon and her grandson had a new cat.  Gosh!  The cashier smiled and nodded her head.  Cashiers might just be considered social workers and counsellors, all rolled into one, at a salary just above minimum wage.  What fun.
Finally, after several moments of almost dozing off, it was my turn to be served.  Each item scanned until she realised one of the items was a packet of headache pills.  'Sir, I need authorisation for these.'   'Oh trust me, my headache is genuine.' I replied.  She laughed and explained, that because she was under eighteen, her adult supervisor would have to scan the headache pills.  Then I place my debit card in the machine.  Just like all the other times, I was asked, 'Would you like cash back?'  Just like all the other times, I responded, 'That's very generous of this store. I think I might just shop here again.'  Once again, I also came to the realisation that any cash back comes out of my account.  Doh!
I headed towards the exit of the store and noticed one of those kiddie toys that seems to be a main feature at the entrance of most supermarkets.  It was a toy helicopter and it 'spoke' to me.  'Hi, what's your name?' inquired the toy helicopter.  'Hi, my name is Gary.' I responded.  A young couple heard me talking to the toy helicopter and gave me a very strange look.  Cannot imagine why.
So, my latest shopping adventure was drawing to a conclusion.  A very frail old lady was struggling away with  a shopping cart.  Each step a marathon.  I could sense her pride and determination.  I smiled, she smiled and the twinkle in her eye made me pause for a moment to reflect.   What's in store for me?  A bright and positive future.  The twinkle in her eye made me realise how much I have to be grateful for.