Who Knew Grocery Shopping Could Be So Challenging?

Where did I move again?

Last time I checked, Wisconsin is in the same country as New York.  But every time I have gone to the grocery store I have thought otherwise. 

Moving to a new city and finding a grocery store is challenging enough without dealing with Crazy Grocers, Inc. of Madison, WI. 

There are probably six different Targets around the Madison area, and I have been lucky enough to go to most of them.  As my lists grew longer I would break down and take a trip to Target.  While I was there I would usually end up walking through the grocery section to pick up the few things I needed.

But two weeks into this game I knew it was time for a change.  My fake grocery shopping wasn’t going to cut it forever.  And, I wanted to learn and feel comfortable with a grocery store before I lived here for six months and would only shop at Target.  And, let’s be honest, Target is fantastic, and the fact that they have grocery sections is wonderful, but real grocery stores are so much better.

So I sucked it up and went to my first grocery store.  I went to Metcalfe’s.  Before you ask, yes, I went to a grocery store next to Target.  I guess I used it as a security blanket.  Maybe I was thinking that if I was too nervous to shop at the real grocery store I could park in the lot, and just stroll right into Target.

Am I sounding like a crazy person?  Am I the only one that stresses out about shopping in a new place?  Because I do!  I get nervous when I’m trying to find a new store.  To help defend myself, think of your grocery shopping experience.  I am going to assume that you usually go to the same store, or possibly one of two stores.  You know which door you will walk in before you arrive.  You park your car closest to that door, take a cart or basket from the same place you always do and shop for the things on your list.  When you think of your grocery store, can you picture where your favorite type of apples are?  Do you know where to get peanut butter?  How about your ice cream?  Do you know which brand of milk to purchase?  And what color the 1% milk is?  Because I have news for you, different milk percentages have different colors in different places.

You probably all passed that test with flying colors, so now take a moment to feel my pain.  Walking into a brand new grocery store you don’t know any of those answers.  Heck, I couldn’t figure out which milk to buy!  And in America’s Dairyland, that is a little bit of a problem.  We have all tried plenty of new grocery stores, but there is a very big difference between a home shopper and a visiting shopper.  The home shopper knows all of the answers and usually fills a cart or basket with the basics and essentials.  The visiting shopper is on vacation or just headed to a party on the other side of town, only breezing through the store to buy beer, potato chips, and maybe a birthday cake.  I’m the home shopper, or at least I’m trying to be, but I’m the girl blocking the aisles, flipping u-ees, and walking the entire store three times before completing my trip.

Now that I feel I have your sympathy, I’ll continue. 

I walked into Metcalfe’s and immediately felt under dressed.  The employees were wearing collared shits, ties, and full aprons.  It was nice, but far from Price Chopper polos or Target red.  The floors were beautiful and the lighting was pleasant.  I paced back and forth through the produce section, almost being tricked into purchasing organic items on more than one occasion, before making my way to the deli counter.  With no numbers in sight, I stood directly in front of the display case, deciding on the turkey that wasn’t the absolute cheapest, but pretty darn close.  The deli ladies were both busy, but saw me standing there, each saying, “I’ll be right with you.”  Then, one by one, female shoppers walked up to the counter, placed their orders and were served before me.  This happened three times!  What happened to “I’ll be right with you?”  Or what happened to a simple, “I’m sorry, this woman was here before you, I’ll be right with you.”  Are women in Madison blind?  Or does the whole Midwest nice thing not apply within grocery store walls?  Luckily a man was the next to approach the counter.  While I glanced over at him he kindly said, “oh, go right ahead.  You were here first.”  It must have been my staggering good looks that finally got me my turkey.  And the wedding ring on his finger that didn't get me the date.

When I arrived at the checkout line the sixteen-year-old pimply stick of a girl started ringing up my items as she asked the famous paper or plastic?  When I said plastic she and her equally pimply and awkward bagger looked at me like I had three heads.  I didn’t feel the need to defend myself, but in my head I thought, don’t you know that dog poop has to be picked up?  The bagger boy began putting my items in fancy schmancy plastic bags- the kind of heavy duty plastic bags that don’t even work for dog poop.  When I noticed that the bagger also had normal plastic bags, I asked if he would use those.  He gave me a look like I was completely crazy.  Okay, I was going to have to explain myself…  I simply said, “I use the bags when I walk the dog, so I don’t need really nice ones.”  He looked at his cashier counterpart who gave a typically teenage eye roll and then back at me.  He said, “uhh, we only use those bags for frozen things.”

I knew I wasn’t going to win this one, so I gave up.  When the last of my fancy plastic bags were in my cart the cashier mumbled, “you want a drive up?”

“Excuse me, a what?”

“A drive up.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what that is…”

Major sigh in disgust….“We stand with your cart and you drive your car up”

“Oh, gosh.  That won’t be necessary.  Thank you.”

And I left Metcalfe’s with my tail between my legs, absolutely exhausted, and with only one dog poop bag holding my ice cream.

When I told coworkers about my experience they all agreed that they had never heard of a drive up, and that maybe Metcalfe’s was too upscale for my taste.  I was told to go to Copps.

The next week I went to Copps.  I got myself a Copps card and had a decent enough experience.  The next week, I returned.  When I checked out, I felt confident handing over my card, and excited to be acquiring gas discounts.  As the woman finished ringing me up and I swiped my credit card she said, “are you playing Monoploy?”  I thought I must have misheard her. 

“What was that?”

“Are you playing Monopoly?”

Nope.  I was right, she did ask me about Monopoly.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what that means…”

“It's a game.  Monopoly.”

Think, Meaghan, think.  Of course Monopoly is a game, but why would I be playing it?  What does this mean?  And why are all grocery store cashiers crazy?  Oh!  I got it!  My telephone is in my hand!  Maybe there is a Monopoly app that is popular!  That has to be it!

“Oh, no, my telephone is off.  I’m not playing.”

With that, the cashier rolled her eyes so hard I thought they would get stuck, picked up a random piece of paper from behind the register and said, “no!  Monopoly.” 

"Oh."

I pushed my cart away. 

After speaking with my office mate the next day he informed me that Copps is playing Monopoly, similar to the way McDonald’s has done it in the past.

… and I was supposed to know this how?

Needless to say, I am still searching for a grocery store.