Shopping In Bulk
by Melanie Pollak

--I loathe grocery shopping, but accept the task on a bi-monthly basis, because my family tends to get grouchy when I don’t feed them. I choose to do my food shopping at night, so that I don’t have to schlep my 21 month old daughter to the store with me. Shopping is hell, but trying to work your way down a grocery list with a toddler is like having a psychotic midget with Tourettes trying to commit suicide via shopping cart disaster. I don’t dare send my husband to do the shopping, because he will only return with items that were on sale, whether we need them or not. To date, my pantry still holds three cans of evaporated milk from the ten for $4.00 Albertson’s ad of 2001.
--I brave the task alone, but prefer to extend the timeframe between grocery shopping excursions by buying in bulk. Thankfully Sam’s Club and Costco are both within a ten minute drive from my house. My husband is a huge fan of Costco. I mean the guy is obsessed with shopping there. Every time we are in a regular grocery store, he will make note that Costco has a much better value on nearly every item I throw in my cart. By the time we leave the store, I’m ready to bludgeon him to death with Costco’s semi-annual coupon book.
--Buying in bulk is a double-edged sword. Sure you can get a ten gallon drum of pickles for only $3.99, but does your family really consume that many pickles? I usually try to buy stuff that I don’t want to have to buy on a regular basis like toilet paper, mouthwash, or frozen chicken breasts. Perishable things are terrible to buy in bulk, but when you break down the costs how can you turn down 5 lbs. of pepperoni for $6.59, especially when you can freeze it!
--Bulk food places are perfect spots for people watching. If you have ever wondered whether there is validity to the statistics on obesity in the United States, spend an afternoon at Sam’s Club. The largest people in our country jet around in those motorized carts, courteously provided by the shopping center, ordering their chubby kids to grab multiple cans of Stagg chili. They also seem to shoot off dirty looks at the drop of a hat when you won’t move your cart immediately for their motorized scooter. Bewildered men are following women who are trying to force their kids to sit down as they reach for the monster bag of chicken nuggets. Kids and adults of all sizes converge on the sample people like angry swarms of wasps. I often feel sorry for those nice folks in hairnets armed only with a pair of steel tongs and tiny plastic sporks. They always seem to be smiling while giving quality information about the product they are hawking. The most amusing part of people watching in bulk food stores is not just the people themselves, but also the items they purchase. Does someone who weighs at least 300 lbs. really need the 5 gallon drum of Dreyer’s ice cream or the $45.00 pork roast?
--By far the best food shopping experience I have ever had in my life happened on the eve of the new millennium. My friend and I entered Winco, a discount supermarket that makes you bag your own groceries in exchange for lower prices, to pick up some munchies for our New Year’s party the next day. We knew the experience might be slightly more amusing than usual, because we had been smoking pot for two hours prior to our shopping trip. We never imagined that we were walking into the center of unbridled, hilarious chaos. The warnings had gone out all over the world that all of the computer systems might fail when the date changed from 1999 to 2000, and in the small Idaho town I was living in at the time, these hicks weren’t taking any chances. They were going ape shit throwing items, not just into shopping carts, but onto portable flatbed hand trucks.
--A large, blonde woman with a horrible print shirt and Jackie O style glasses nearly pushed us over in the dairy isle as she proceeded to load eight, yes eight, gallons of milk onto her flatbed hand truck. My friend and I watched as the milk lady’s eye flashed with horror at the thought of having to forgo moo juice for an indeterminate amount of time. We decided to hang out near the checkout lines; because the opportunity to see morons in action was hands-down the best free entertainment we could have possibly wished for. Most people had loaded either a flatbed hand truck or two shopping carts full of groceries as if it were never going to see food again.
--We left two hours later ready to welcome in the New Year far more amused than when we entered earlier that night. I spent the next day on the couch watching New Year’s celebrations around the world, and recovering from the muscle stiffness that had settled into my abdomen from laughing hysterically the previous night. To this day, I can’t remember what we went into the store for, but I’ll never forget that shopping experience.
--Unfortunately, I will never have the opportunity to repeat that terrific night grocery shopping since I’m a mom now, and smoking pot is out of the question. I also doubt that I’ll live to see the next millennium no matter how many vitamins I take. I’ll just have to be satisfied with doing my bi-monthly excursions to the store, and amuse myself with the site of enormous Americans stuffing potato chips and candy into their carts, but yelling at their kids to “Grab the Diet Soda!”

return to Letter X