My first official complaint
I decided yesterday that I really don’t like grocery shopping. My emotional and physical health is at risk, I believe. If I could measure my blood pressure while I’m shopping, I know it wouldn’t be good. I fear being run over by a rogue shopping cart. And, I actually break a sweat doing this simple, weekly errand. That can’t be good.
The dislike begins with the crowds and the general lack of personal space displayed at the grocery store. In American stores, people generally attempt to move if they see they are in another’s way, and there are unspoken rules about who goes in front of whom when shoppers meet in the aisles. The Dutch possess very few of these social cues, so attempting to make my way through the aisles is rather difficult. Shoppers cut in front of each other. They stand directly in front of the products without moving to let others get an item quickly. They stop in the middle of the aisle, leaving no room to pass on either side.
Then, of course, is the product selection. I’m much more familiar with Dutch food labels now, but it is still a painstakingly slow process. This is probably complicated by the fact that I’m getting used to a new grocery story with a wider selection of items. Nevertheless, it is still a long, slow, arduous process to find the food on my list.
The third dislike is the constant stock replenishment. If the shoppers don’t make it difficult enough to navigate the store, then add at least one person every two aisles stocking items. It doesn’t matter what time or day I’m at the store. They are always there, and they always have huge trolleys blocking my way. At one point, I actually stopped to watch two stockers tossing cartons of pudding across the aisle. It was entertaining but difficult to walk through. I could only think of a carton of pudding landing on my head.
Checkout time is where I break a sweat. I find myself mentally preparing for this sprint the same way I would prepare for a track race in high school. I begin by unloading everything onto the narrow, narrow, NARROW belt as fast as I can so I can get ahead of the cashier. Then, I run quickly to the other end of the belt to pack and re-load the groceries. In the time between unloading and re-loading the groceries, I need to find the shopping bags I’ve brought and prepare them to receive my purchases. I can only hope from week to week that I’ve brought enough bags. Quickly, I need to load the groceries, or else the customer behind me will be held up. However, I also need to pay the cashier when she finishes ringing up, so I need to watch her progress. A successful run, I figure, is when I manage to load all but one bag prior to having to pay. Yesterday, I had only one bag packed. I was grateful the people behind me had only a few items each. I love the grocery baggers in American stores.
Normally during my 10-minute walk home, I reflect how I could make the process easier, like how to best unload the groceries to ensure they can be loaded without the bread ending up on the bottom of the bag. However, yesterday, I had to protect my groceries from the cold, steady rain that was falling. That took that last remaining mental stamina I had.
Carrying the groceries up our 38 steps took the last remaining physical stamina I had.
So, now, I think I’m going to go on a hunger strike. I’m not going to go back until I’m hungry.
I did find a new bread, though…
The dislike begins with the crowds and the general lack of personal space displayed at the grocery store. In American stores, people generally attempt to move if they see they are in another’s way, and there are unspoken rules about who goes in front of whom when shoppers meet in the aisles. The Dutch possess very few of these social cues, so attempting to make my way through the aisles is rather difficult. Shoppers cut in front of each other. They stand directly in front of the products without moving to let others get an item quickly. They stop in the middle of the aisle, leaving no room to pass on either side.
Then, of course, is the product selection. I’m much more familiar with Dutch food labels now, but it is still a painstakingly slow process. This is probably complicated by the fact that I’m getting used to a new grocery story with a wider selection of items. Nevertheless, it is still a long, slow, arduous process to find the food on my list.
The third dislike is the constant stock replenishment. If the shoppers don’t make it difficult enough to navigate the store, then add at least one person every two aisles stocking items. It doesn’t matter what time or day I’m at the store. They are always there, and they always have huge trolleys blocking my way. At one point, I actually stopped to watch two stockers tossing cartons of pudding across the aisle. It was entertaining but difficult to walk through. I could only think of a carton of pudding landing on my head.
Checkout time is where I break a sweat. I find myself mentally preparing for this sprint the same way I would prepare for a track race in high school. I begin by unloading everything onto the narrow, narrow, NARROW belt as fast as I can so I can get ahead of the cashier. Then, I run quickly to the other end of the belt to pack and re-load the groceries. In the time between unloading and re-loading the groceries, I need to find the shopping bags I’ve brought and prepare them to receive my purchases. I can only hope from week to week that I’ve brought enough bags. Quickly, I need to load the groceries, or else the customer behind me will be held up. However, I also need to pay the cashier when she finishes ringing up, so I need to watch her progress. A successful run, I figure, is when I manage to load all but one bag prior to having to pay. Yesterday, I had only one bag packed. I was grateful the people behind me had only a few items each. I love the grocery baggers in American stores.
Normally during my 10-minute walk home, I reflect how I could make the process easier, like how to best unload the groceries to ensure they can be loaded without the bread ending up on the bottom of the bag. However, yesterday, I had to protect my groceries from the cold, steady rain that was falling. That took that last remaining mental stamina I had.
Carrying the groceries up our 38 steps took the last remaining physical stamina I had.
So, now, I think I’m going to go on a hunger strike. I’m not going to go back until I’m hungry.
I did find a new bread, though…
posted by Beth at 5:30 PM
3 Comments:
Wow! What a great post. What's the name of your grocery store? Is it a chain? Is it anything like Pat's? Are there live animals which you can have a butcher kill? What about ham hocks? Are there ham hocks like my Cub?
This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.
Den Toom - pronounced Den Tome. Not a chain that I'm aware of, but the previous store was. Ahh...Pat's. Let's see, there's a lot more bread, no pasties, and several more checkouts, and no bagboys :-) But, you know, it does have the feel of Pat's...slightly old and outdated, but still a decent store. No live animals. Although the chicken comes with feathers. Bad quality control. Ham hocks...well, there are probably 75 kinds of ham, so ham hocks are probably there. What are ham hocks, anyway?
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