Smugness Pooling at My Feet

Oh, I can be a smug queen when I want to be. Some people might say I want to be smug every day - but that's not the case. I'm often dissatisfied with myself as often as I'm satisfied. But one place I know I'm always in the right is at the Commissary. (That's a grocery store to you civilian folk.)

I don't like to shop. There. I've put that out there. I enjoy browsing for stuff I don't need. I love to dream about expensive antiques I'll never own and the beach house I will one day decorate in a beachy motif. (I know, the beach! Go figure!) But when it comes down to shopping - I'm just not a fan - especially when I need something. Unfortunately - we always need something from the grocery - milk, bread, cereal, coffee filters, 36 bottles of Gator-Ade. Something. So it is usually me and my bad attitude headed out the door.

If I must go to the grocery - I go early. I must be there within 5 minutes of it opening. Even more than shopping - I hate crowds. So, I am usually at the store as early as I can get there. This morning was awesome. Got there so early I was even able to park in one of the spots reserved for "Any Colonel." Yippee! That's only happened once before - so today was going to be a good day. I could feel the smug smile playing on my lips.

I had my list of needs and wants. My goal is always "get it and go." No lingering. No loitering. I have my coupons presorted according to aisle. (I love to save money as much as I love saving time.) I enter the store actual 10 minutes before it opens. The angels are smiling on me today!
I pulled out a cart - again, angels smiling, one came lose without 4 attached, and I entered the store. Full smug smile.

I should have known at the precise moment I walked through the electronic door that my luck had ended. I had entered the land of unpurchased case lots. Oh, the horror. A pack of twelve cans of sauerkraut was the first thing I saw, followed by the rutabaga, jumbo box of Rice Krispies (big enough to feed a fraternity house breakfast and offer seconds,) and the all purpose 48 piece Clorox Cleaning Kit. I've nothing against buying in bulk - it's just that I don't like storing 120 gallon ketchup bottles in my coat closet. The leftovers were everywhere. But, I've done this dance before - so I deftly made my way down the aisle to the produce. Smugness still intact.

Ah, crap. It's Monday. That means it's retired couples day. Frank and Helen have decided to make a day shopping for bargains. I know in my heart of hearts that Helen would rather be anywhere than shopping for groceries - but Frank, a novice, only doing this for the last 15 years, thinks he's in charge. That means I have to navigate around him in his "I'm spending my kids' inheritance T shirt" while he's yelling "Helen, they've got Idaho potatoes for 3 cent cheaper than the ones in your cart. Did you hear me? 3 cent!" "And don't forget to by Charmin. I don't like that cheap stuff. Helen? We need some Raisin Bran. I like the one with the extra raisins. Helen? Are you listening?" At this point, Helen has moved over to the wine aisle - which is located in another store.

Next are Mary and Marcy. Mary and Marcy are a team and are shopping together. have to pick up every single apple, tomato, green pepper and leek to find the perfect specimen. They can't or won't move...they are on a mission, dang it. Must. Find. Perfect. Squash. And they are a team. They will put all the groceries in one basket but when they get to the checkout - they will sort it out and it will actually be two bills. I ran for the hills.

Fortunately, I don't need much produce today so I grab my not quite yellow still green bananas and head to the condiment aisle. Oh shitake mushrooms. What have we here? It's Rebecca, Elizabeth, Jennifer, Katherine - someone that refuses to shorten her name, drinking her cup of Starbucks coffee in her own private little world. Her basket is in the middle of the aisle. You can't go to the left or right of it. She is standing five to ten feet in front of her cart drinking her coffee and just staring at the pearl onions, extra large pimento olives and bread and butter pickles. And staring she is. Lovingly and longingly. She's in some type of coffee coma induced by the overwhelming selection of condiments. Marcella, Pricilla, Veronica, Suzanna will still be standing there when I leave and still drinking her Starbucks oblivious to the fact there is a 10 cart pile up caused by her.

Yikes! No condiments today except peanut butter and lucky for me it is on the end of aisle. Onward to the cereal aisle.

Oh for the love of God, who invented kids anyway? Here we find Bex (short and flirty for Becky) and her brood of 10 kids all under the age of 6. It's not so much the kids I object to as it is Bex. Jordan wants Trix but Tyler is allergic to the red dye and wants Honeycombs but not as much as Trey wants Super Sugar Crisp. Bex reminds them all that Nicole can't tolerate sugar and Ashley only likes corn flakes and would Michael remind everyone what happened the last time he ate gluten? I got the hell out of Dodge the last time I ate gluten. Thank god my family is full of cereal freaks. They eat what I buy them. That's the rule. I picked up the discards from the Health-tastic family and went on my way.

My favorite aisle - FROZEN FOODS! Yippee - that means my time in the store is almost at an end. I just need to get to the milk, grab some eggs and call it a day. But, wait, I can't get around the corner because Tabitha is standing there. Oh, and Tabitha can't move, you see. Why is that? She points to her cell phone and shrugs. I understand. The cell phone enables your rudeness. Got it. It renders you unable to do anything but talk on the phone and the universal point to the phone as your nodding your head tells the world "this call is more important than your need for survival so I will be on this phone as long as it takes my friend to tell me about her date."

I hate people that talk on cell phones in the store. Detest them. What makes them think the cell phone renders them invisible? Why does courtesy fly out the window when someone picks up their cell phone? I never talk on my cell in a store. I would never talk on my phone in a store. It is the worst kind of rude. I just shake my head when I see this decay of civilization and inwardly my smug smile takes over to get me through the rest of the day. I am above cell phone talking.

I am thinking this as I walk to the register. I don't need my husband reminding me to get things. I don't need my friend finding the bargains of the day. I don't need Starbucks to get me through the grind of shopping. My smug smile is in full gleam as I make my way to the check out line.

Hey. They are giving out free samples of coffee. Well, it is free and this woman is doing a job. Ok, I can have one as I wait to check out. I won't be holding up any lines. Finally a line clears and I make my way over to the conveyor belt just so happy in my own smug little world.

I put my coffee on the edge of the belt and begin unloading my loot. At the exact same time the cashier asks paper or plastic my cell phone rings. As I hurriedly rush to answer it the cashier gives me the look of death as I mouth plastic. As I answer the phone I slowly feel the aforementioned smugness pooling around my ankles. I hear my husband on the other end of the phone reminding me to get him blueberry wheat checks. As I look down I realize it really isn't smugness pooling at my ankles. It's the coffee I knocked over in my race to answer the cell phone.