Thank Goodness For Groceries
After a full dose of "Monday Fun-Day" at work, I headed straight for the grocery store on 2nd Avenue. It was the start to another jam-packed week and I was in need of some major fridge restocking after another fab weekend.
One thing that I've learned to detest in this city of Manhattan is shopping for groceries. It's not the actual food shopping that I necessarily hate; actually I think it can be quite therapeutic... Hunting high and low for your favorite palatable delights, choosing carefully among the many varieties, shapes, & sizes: low fat, sugar free, shredded or pureed... It is always amusing to try new flavors and variations. No, that is not at all what irks me. What does cause such mindless exasperation, is the long, strenuous walk home from the food store to my apartment with an accumulation of plastic bags slung over my shoulders, around my wrists, gripped tightly in my poorly circulated hands. Okay, okay, so maybe I exaggerate a tad... The walk isn't that long. But it sure feels a lot longer when you're carrying enough weight to be what feels like a few cinder blocks, down the street.
After assessing the situation and thinking strategically about how each bag could possibly fit on my person, I loaded 'em up and headed immediately for the exit sign.
Traipsing up the street, I mundanely counted the street signs as they began to increase with each corner I passed. Damn it! I thought, as I got caught at a "Don't Walk" sign with red hand up. I stood immobile for a moment, feeling the weight of the straps begin to cut off circulation on my fingers.
That's when I heard him.
"Excuse me, Miss?" I turned at the urgency in his voice, and my bags created a loud swoosh as I stepped forward to control the sudden shift in weight. I looked up to see a spruced gentleman, early 30's, in a black work suite approached me.
"Hi there, I'm sorry... You don't know me... Listen, I saw you walking down the street and realized that I just wouldn't be able to live with myself if I did not come over and talk to you..." Clamored the audacious man.
"Oh, WOW... That's really nice of you to say..." I stammered, as I tried to grasp a hold of the situation (and my bags). He continued talking about himself...Blah Blah Blah, and what he did for a living... Blah Blah Blah... And then began asking me random questions such as: "Soooo...You live around here?", "Where did you say you were from?" and "What type of places do you like to go out to around these parts?"
Was I caught off guard? Yes. Was he flattering? Of course. But if this guy thought he was going to get any serious conversation not to mention some digits, out of girl beaten with bags, he was seriously mistaken.
"You know, I'd love to shake your hand, but I see you're pretty occupied already...He,he,he." Pretty occupied? Um...Yes, yes I am...Would you like to hold a bag or two for me if you insist on keeping me from getting to my destination, you hilarious stranger?
I smiled politely as he chattered on with a bold aire. I began to shuffle my feet in the opposite direction, moving farther and farther away, to show I was in a hurry. Finnnnnalllly I courageously blurted out:
"Listen, I'm really sorry to be a drag, but I've just got to get these groceries home... It has been lovely talking to you!"
"Of course, you need to take off, listen, can I get your number? I'd love to take you out..."
Uuugghh, this guy just did NOT get it. I had made qualifying attempts to show disinterest (not to mention severe distress with my parcels) and... No comprende.
"Oh, that's really so sweet of you to ask...But actually I don't give my number out to strangers." I stared at him with a blunt, There's-Nothing-I-Can-Do-4-U look. An awkward silence was finally broken when he fathomed what I was getting at and farewells, thank you's and take care's were exchanged.
At last! I beamed, and raced as quickly as I could with the sharp sound of plastic whipping in the wind, my heels scuffing the ground with every step. When I eventually got up to my apartment and threw the sacks down on the table, I took pity on my sore muscles and achey back. As I stood in the kitchen unpacking my items, I began to wonder: Were these heavier-by-the-minute, abundant packages I lugged all the way from the store nothing but an aggravating curse?
... Or maybe, just maybe, a huge blessing?
One thing that I've learned to detest in this city of Manhattan is shopping for groceries. It's not the actual food shopping that I necessarily hate; actually I think it can be quite therapeutic... Hunting high and low for your favorite palatable delights, choosing carefully among the many varieties, shapes, & sizes: low fat, sugar free, shredded or pureed... It is always amusing to try new flavors and variations. No, that is not at all what irks me. What does cause such mindless exasperation, is the long, strenuous walk home from the food store to my apartment with an accumulation of plastic bags slung over my shoulders, around my wrists, gripped tightly in my poorly circulated hands. Okay, okay, so maybe I exaggerate a tad... The walk isn't that long. But it sure feels a lot longer when you're carrying enough weight to be what feels like a few cinder blocks, down the street.
After assessing the situation and thinking strategically about how each bag could possibly fit on my person, I loaded 'em up and headed immediately for the exit sign.
Traipsing up the street, I mundanely counted the street signs as they began to increase with each corner I passed. Damn it! I thought, as I got caught at a "Don't Walk" sign with red hand up. I stood immobile for a moment, feeling the weight of the straps begin to cut off circulation on my fingers.
That's when I heard him.
"Excuse me, Miss?" I turned at the urgency in his voice, and my bags created a loud swoosh as I stepped forward to control the sudden shift in weight. I looked up to see a spruced gentleman, early 30's, in a black work suite approached me.
"Hi there, I'm sorry... You don't know me... Listen, I saw you walking down the street and realized that I just wouldn't be able to live with myself if I did not come over and talk to you..." Clamored the audacious man.
"Oh, WOW... That's really nice of you to say..." I stammered, as I tried to grasp a hold of the situation (and my bags). He continued talking about himself...Blah Blah Blah, and what he did for a living... Blah Blah Blah... And then began asking me random questions such as: "Soooo...You live around here?", "Where did you say you were from?" and "What type of places do you like to go out to around these parts?"
Was I caught off guard? Yes. Was he flattering? Of course. But if this guy thought he was going to get any serious conversation not to mention some digits, out of girl beaten with bags, he was seriously mistaken.
"You know, I'd love to shake your hand, but I see you're pretty occupied already...He,he,he." Pretty occupied? Um...Yes, yes I am...Would you like to hold a bag or two for me if you insist on keeping me from getting to my destination, you hilarious stranger?
I smiled politely as he chattered on with a bold aire. I began to shuffle my feet in the opposite direction, moving farther and farther away, to show I was in a hurry. Finnnnnalllly I courageously blurted out:
"Listen, I'm really sorry to be a drag, but I've just got to get these groceries home... It has been lovely talking to you!"
"Of course, you need to take off, listen, can I get your number? I'd love to take you out..."
Uuugghh, this guy just did NOT get it. I had made qualifying attempts to show disinterest (not to mention severe distress with my parcels) and... No comprende.
"Oh, that's really so sweet of you to ask...But actually I don't give my number out to strangers." I stared at him with a blunt, There's-Nothing-I-Can-Do-4-U look. An awkward silence was finally broken when he fathomed what I was getting at and farewells, thank you's and take care's were exchanged.
At last! I beamed, and raced as quickly as I could with the sharp sound of plastic whipping in the wind, my heels scuffing the ground with every step. When I eventually got up to my apartment and threw the sacks down on the table, I took pity on my sore muscles and achey back. As I stood in the kitchen unpacking my items, I began to wonder: Were these heavier-by-the-minute, abundant packages I lugged all the way from the store nothing but an aggravating curse?
... Or maybe, just maybe, a huge blessing?
posted by alannajoy at 11:34 PM
15 Comments:
I HATED!!!! that!! When I had to go shopping for the first time in Philly I went to the grocery store and bought bottles of soda, all sorts of canned goods and a WATERMELLON!!! I only realized the problem as I was walking out the automated door. Not only did I have about 10 bags, (one containing the largest watermellon EVER) but I couldn't remember how to get back to my appartment. Ah the good old days. :)
why is michael jackson like a plastic shopping bag? because they're both dangerous for kids to play with!
Alanna, I saw this basket with wheels in Florida, ohhhh, you do need one. Oh, look, Jags calls it a granny cart.
This guy ain't worth poops, good thing he didn't offer to carry your bags or follow you home.
Next time, if a fella's bothering you, remember to say, "I'm sorry but my boyfriend is a very JEALOUS guy, you would not be safe if he saw you..."
And look mean when you say it.
i'm with Jags and GG- get a roller!! even better just use one of those cary on suitcases on wheels, i'm sure you have one- this way you'll just look like you're comming from the airport ;)
and the manhattan guys have literally forgotten how to be men. i thought he was running over to offer to CARRY your bags for you! you should have TOLD him to carry them-
Don't you just hate guys who can't take "No" for an answer. God - what egos.
Who needs to the gym - all you have to do is go to the store. You're getting your cardio and your lifts in - great multi-tasking! LOL
What in the world?!
Sheeessshhh, I feel your pain girl, I used to walk 10 blocks away from the store to my apartment with tons of grocery bags, those things hurt like hell!
I am happy you didn't give your number to that dummie. shame on the man, shame!!!!!!
Man, ya'll are harsh. You gotta at least admire the guy for being bold enough to come up and talk to AJoy. Sure, he should have offered to help with the bags, but you can't fault him for at least trying to chat it up with the lovely stranger with whom he was so helplessly enamored. He may have been persistent, but it sounds like once it was clear AJoy wasn't interested he backed off, no? He would have regretted it had he not at least asked for the digits. Does the romantic stranger thing only work out in the movies? Is it possible to pull off in the real world without being creepy? Either way, sometimes I wish I was so bold.
Enjoyed the post today... well written as usual.
DMac
The wonderful thing about NYC grocery stores is they deliver your groceries for a few dollars extra...or you can get a granny cart...I finally did after about 7yrs of lugging my own. Oh yeah, freshdirect.com is super. I ordered from them mostly the last few months I was there...good stuff. As for the man...only NY are they so bold.
Damn D-Mac! I felt that slap on my wrist as if you were right here. I stand corrected. I guess you can't blame a guy for trying.
Yeah...D does have a good point. However, I wish the man had possessed some manners and either offered to carry a bag or two or made it snappy by handing off a business card so I could get my goods home!
CS: I heart Freshdirect.com!! I am starting to become more and more of a regular! Good suggestion gurl!
JJ: Way to rule on the weight lifting, I now don't feel so bad for skipping the gym the past few days..LOL
Ale: Good point with the suitcase, one of the reasons why I dont use a "granny cart" (thanx Jags) is b/c I look like a complete tool (or a bag lady) lugging that puppy all the way home...This idea gives the "international" look..hehehe
GG: I am MEMORIZING your new line...True that sista! Fail-Proof!!
Yoli: Hahahaha...Yes, I remember one of the very first rules of thumb: Don't talk to strangers! =)
B: Ur NUTS-O ya hear?!
Kendra: Babe do we have to chat! I checked out ur website and girl> You are ROCKIN! MISS u.
Gracias all!
alannajoy
Sorry J, didn't mean to scold. I don't really disagree, just thought somebody should take the other side. :)
wait, is nuts-o good or bad? is it slang for something. i just don't understand kids these days...
Alanna! Hilarious! Okay, I so know what you mean about the pain that is grocery shopping due to carrying all the heavy little plastic bags. I usually end up with severe cuts all over my arms and wrists where the bags slice me on my way home from the store! I HATE it! And I can't believe that audacity of that guy -- if he's gonna hit on you, the BEST way to do it would have been to offer to carry your bags! Geez, guys just don't get it, do they?!
If you were in the South, he'd have the right mind to help you with your bags. But Patrick Bateman would not have been so nice...
AJoy,
Look up "Your Legs Grow" by Nada Surf. Good winter song.
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