Aisle of Trials: Surviving Wegmans' Wonders and Woes

I’m looking for a parking spot at Wegmans, and of course, the closer the better, lest Ispend an extra 30 seconds walking in the parking lot. I’m not the only one circling the parking lot; no, my ilk and I are  like buzzards overhead trying to pick out a sick and dying animal on the Serengeti. As luck would have it, I see a lady come out and getting into her car in a prime parking spot; one of the few left in a lot with designated space for Veterans, women with young children, pharmacy or grocery pick-up orders; there are less class designations at the Academy Awards. She puts her groceries in, and expecting to see her reverse lights come on when she gets in, I observe her as she apparently has to touch up her makeup, reconcile her checkbook, place the checkbook in the proper spot in her purse and stow it away in a proper place. All tray tables seem to be in there upright and locked position, so she finally starts backing out, ever so slowly. A car rounds the corner coming the opposite way and stops, seeing this opportunity, Oh no! I quickly put on my blinker light, indicating, that’s MY spot, and you’d better not challenge me, a known parking lot warning, like a tiger growling at another tiger as he tears into his fresh meal.

Having secured the parking spot, and feeling very smug that I won that battle, it’s time to go into do some grocery shopping.  I’ve secured a second mortgage on my home, so I should be fine.

A guy ahead of me grabs a cart from the line of nested ones and proceeds to wipe it down with a sanitary wipe the store provides, being careful to clean every surface, as if it will be used in a surgical procedure; I throw all caution to the wind and just grab mine, bare handed and all. I was lucky, as this time I didn’t need to use my welding torch to dislodge the cart from the rest.

Getting through Wegmans on a busy day (or really any busy supermarket)  could be a para-Olympic sport by rights; the amount of skill and determination to win is right up there with training years to become a downhill skier, let’s face it; there are obstacles to overcome with focus and determination a must.

Getting through the aisles is of course, is the most difficult aspect. My favorite is the lady that will stop to by an item, and not just pick it up and keep walking, no; she has to intentionally block the aisle with the cart positioned in a perpendicular way, sealing it off as it were a border crossing at the old Berlin Wall. I came across such as obstacle on my last visit, and lacking the necessary dynamite to blow it up, had to wait. I watched as she picked up a can of green beans and look it completely over, making sure the label was on correctly, and there were no dents in it - lest she contract botulism. She looked at the price tag on the shelf, put it down and picked up another brand, looking at its price, scanning the container carefully as well. This was critical, because getting a bad can of green beans that was more expensive than another, AND being dented could not only kill someone, but ruin ruin the family finances, if she should have to throw it out. She ended up going with the first can.

Another aisle; I stop to look for something, carefully putting my cart to one side, I step back to look at the shelves, and someone goes between me and the shelf, oblivious not only to my being there, but all societal norms of perhaps saying, I dunno, “excuse me”.

Intersections are the most treacherous, by far,  as you try to stick your neck out to see if anyone else is coming down the intersection to crash into you. I dodge a 4 year old pushing the cart, but then almost careen off the aisle as a monster of a cart comes down the aisle, the tractor-trailer of these roads, the themed shopping cart of a truck cab kids can sit in with a full size cart basket in front of that. You can always plan on spending a good 10% more on shopping when you bring your kids, that’s why these places have these carts kids love.

After an hour or so, I have 32 items in my cart - five I purposely came for, and the rest that Wegmans made me buy. I go through the self check out as I have scanned all the open registers, and seeing they all are very busy with people buying their yearly groceries, I figure this is the best option. I place my reusable bag in the bagging area, and am immediately prompted with “Did you place a bag in the bagging area?” No lady, I was trying to secretly steal a greeting card; THAT was the weight you sensed, you caught me. Ugh. Scan, scan, scan, bag, bag, bag. Ah, another two bags of groceries, and another $95 out the door.

But then a disturbance - I see an old lady yelling at the service desk kid about her can of tuna being 5¢ more than it was last week, how she’s on a fixed income, and so on, because apparently THIS kid can control prices of products, I had no idea. I watch as she soothes herself by pumping in two twenties into the scratch off machine.

Such is life in suburban America.

Now if I can back out of my spot without getting in a crash…