Supermarket shockers

THERE CAN BE NO DOUBT that women are incredibly sophisticated shoppers. This is especially so at the grocery store or supermarket. While preferring to go alone, sometimes it is necessary to take a husband along as a beast of burden to carry the loot. Frankly, they do not trust men to do the food shopping as they know how naive the male sex is and how easily guys can be seduced by advertising. If company is in the offing, however, and the wife has to clean the house, set the table, etc., she may, in desperation, relent and send her man to the store with a shopping list. She realizes that to do so is to flirt with the risk that he might not find all the items and that, somehow, if anything can go wrong, it will. This is amply illustrated by my own experience.

Among the things I was supposed to buy were oranges, orange juice, milk, butter, bacon, cantaloupe, hot dogs, potatoes, eggs, beer, soda, and sardines. I took the list and told her not to worry, as these were simple enough to find. Never did I dream of all the decisions I would be forced to make on this shopping tour, and the need to do so came with the very first item--oranges.

In the produce department, the fresh-looking plump fruit were begging to be taken home. But what kind of oranges was I supposed to buy? I found out there are those for eating, such as thick-skinned navel oranges with their easily-pulled-apart segments, or thin-skinned oranges for making juice. I resolved the issue by flipping a coin and the juice variety won out. Looking for orange juice, I saw the label that announced that some had no pulp while other cartons advertised lots of pulp. Before deciding, I realized that my selection of juice oranges had to be replaced with the navel variety, otherwise my wife wouldn't have put orange juice on the list. So, back I traipsed to make the exchange, I gambled that I should buy the "lots of pulp" juice and put a carton in my wagon.

The next thing to look for was potatoes. There, too, a decision was called for, as there were russet, Idaho, and red. I chose the Idaho, as they were the biggest. I almost forgot about the cantaloupe, but selected one in the middle of the pile. (I'd noticed that women never pick up the one closest to them.) No one told me to press the navel to see if it was fairly soft, which indicates ripeness. (As it turned out, we had to wait a week before it could be eaten.)

Now to get the milk. The dairy case overwhelmed me, as it contained whole, 2%, 1%, and fat-free. With four choices, I couldn't flip a coin, so I made a blind grab for the regular. For butter, I thought I would have no problem because I knew that margarine was not butter, even though it might look like the real thing. The butter joined the other items in my cart. I didn't notice that the package I took said "unsalted," and I would me the day because of it. The eggs were nearby and, here again, a choice was necessary among extra large, jumbo, medium, and small. Being a man of moderation, I put the medium dozen in the basket and, while doing this, spotted an 18-egg carton and some brown eggs. The latter didn't tempt me, but the 18-egg carton did. After figuring out unit costs, I decided to go with the biggie and returned the other carton to the shelf. I failed to look inside, however, to see if any were broken or missing. (When I got home, that was the first thing my wife did and, sure enough, two were badly cracked.)

I was near the meat section and went directly to the hot dogs. I picked up a 10-pack and, this time, checked the label. I thought a hot dog was a hot dog until I looked at the other packages. One said "turkey franks," another "pork and chicken," and still another "Kosher--pure beef." Frankly, they all looked pretty much alike. Wondering if kosher meat tasted any different, I thought I would give them a try. Nearby was the bacon section and there, too, decisionmaking was a problem. Some were hickory smoked, maple flavored, thick or thin sliced, and regular, as well as microwaveable. I was tired of making decisions that increasingly seemed arbitrary. I thought to try the microwave type, as at breakfast we always seem to be in a rush. (I found out later that the bacon was for wrapping around a steak patty and my choice did not fit that need.)

Canned sardines were next and they were tough to find. I persevered, though, and was rewarded with many different types. Some were packed in tomato sauce, others in mustard, water, or oil. I selected the one in mustard. Chalk up another boo-boo!

I almost was at the bottom of my list, but had to get some beer and soda. I was sure that the beer I wanted was regular, as the "light" always seemed watered down--or perhaps it just was the name. I'm a guy who likes to get his money's worth. With regard to the soft drinks, however, again, I encountered numerous varieties: regular, low-calorie, no-calorie, no-caffeine, diet, low-carb, sugar-free, etc. These distinctions are enough to make a man go nuts.