Panic at the Supermarket

In need of a story to write, I sit here in a physician’s office, awaiting the end of my daughter’s appointment. It’s what I do as a mom – I’m showing support for her. Besides, the waiting room creeps me out, and I don’t want her to be alone here.

It’s getting late, and my thoughts turn to the events of the day; I waited for the Sears repair man to come to fix my washer, which decided that it wanted to agitate without ever filling up with water. Right about the time that he was scheduled to arrive, however, I received a phone call, which informed me that he wasn’t going to be able to make it, and would it be convenient for him to arrive on my doorstep, first thing the following morning? I wasn’t very thrilled at the moment, because I was thinking about the fact that I had a weekly food shopping chore that was awaiting my care. The impending storm brought memories of crowded supermarkets to mind, and I was hoping to avoid that mad rush before the first flakes fell. Ah, well, so much for well laid plans.

I dislike the chore of shopping for food, but I dislike it a whole lot more when I have to don my suit of armor and battle others who are in the throes of panic in the parking lot. Not my idea of a fun time. Hence, I'm really dreading the task tonight.

When I think about blizzards and snowstorms, coupled with supermarkets, I’m reminded of a simpler time, when my daughter was an infant who was waiting at home with my husband. We needed a few things at ShopRite, and so I took my life into my hands and attempted the trip. You see, I was young, and I didn’t know any better.

The store was, literally, a madhouse.

Lines stretched to the back of the store – no joke. There were literal fist fights over parking spots in the parking lot. My ears burned when I heard the language that was coming out of mouths of drivers. It was as if Armageddon was looming on the horizon. I swear, I’d never seen anything like it in my life.

At first, I had attempted to pass through the cramped aisles, but there were so many carts awaiting checkout that passage was almost impossible. I managed to find a line that was clearly to the meat department in the back, left my cart, and dashed through the store in search of items that I was running out of, such as diapers and formula. I picked up a few other essentials, tearing back to my cart as if I were a contestant on “Supermarket Sweep”. I’d make a deposit of whatever I had been carrying, moved the cart up a hair, and ran back to get a few more items. I truly wasn’t there to stockpile; this was actually my regularly scheduled food shopping day. I have no idea what the other shoppers in the store were thinking, but I can recall the bare bread shelf, and the milk section was completely empty. Egg cartons were open and askew; I still shudder at the memory.

A recent trip to ShopRite to gather a few items before the snows arrived in January yielded similar results, but I wasn’t there for the bread and milk. It just so happens that my regularly scheduled food shopping chore occurs before each and every snowstorm. I might have to change days.

Long Island is truly no stranger to snowstorms. In years past, I can recall the days of yore when my parents would hunker down for the long haul. There was no running out for bread and milk, and I certainly don’t remember either of my parents in a panic over the lack thereof. We just made due with whatever was in the house, and we certainly didn’t act like hibernating bears, what with the overeating and such. It didn’t seem that shelves were torn apart back then, and I don’t remember people scrambling and arguing over the last loaf of Wonder Bread on the shelf.

Nowadays, you’d think that people were going to starve to death during even a snowstorm that yields 2” of snow. I blame the media hype for this, especially the Weather Channel. People have become glued to their television sets, and begin to panic the moment they hear the word “snow”. Overdramatizing weather events has caused us to become a nation of panickers. The prospect of not having a sandwich has made us literally insane. Really? Don’t people have other things in their homes to eat? I remember when Chef Curtis Stone on television would drop into people’s homes and create culinary wonders with leftovers. Get creative, people – you truly aren’t going to starve.

We have expressways and highways for the trucks to get through. Deliveries are made regularly to the food stores, and yes, you can brave the elements to go get your bread and milk. You might not want to, but it can be done. I can recall, in years past, driving a Pinto to Waldbaum’s to go food shopping in the dead of winter. A Pinto, for crying out loud. There are more SUV’s on the road these days than ever before – you have four wheel drive, folks – use it, and be grateful! If you must drive in this weather, and you are not the driver of one of these behemoths, please, use caution and drive slowly. Your life is not worth risking for a few groceries.

As I write this, I am looking down at my shopping list, and I’m wondering if I really need to take my life into my hands in a food store. I still need dog food; the last bits of Purina kibble are peeking up at me in the storage bin, so I know I’ll have to make the trek to the supermarket tonight. I’m only hoping that the stores won’t be jam packed full of worried customers.

There’s a great video on YouTube that depicts a frantic guy who’s on his way to the store, and he actually is almost reduced to tears, crying about having to get the “bread and milk”. It’s nice to know that there’s someone else out there who realizes the insanity of this practice. There’s also a great picture that’s making its rounds, as well – a family of three, in front of the TV screen that shows the forecast. The mom is holding the bread, the little girl is holding the milk, and the dad has a “thumbs up” sign as he holds his quarry – a case of beer. Gotta have your priorities straight, lol.

If you’re going to be one of the brave souls that opts to go shopping before the snow hits, be sure to remind yourself of what you really need. Purchase only what is necessary; there are others who will be right behind you, looking for a loaf of bread or a gallon of milk for their families. Don’t argue over a parking spot, because there are plenty left in the lot. If there aren’t, you can make the trek to a different store, or you can just go without. It isn’t worth losing your peace over. Breathe, slow down, and don't worry -- you can't add a minute to your life by feeling anxious. Relax - like Bob Marley sang, "Everything is gonna be alright."

As for me, I’m going to sit with a cup of tea, and wait for the first snowflakes to fall. It’s winter, and we have to expect that, if we live in the Northeast.