It’s a big day. We are going to pick up groceries at two p.m. Some poor kid will wheel them to my truck in the face of frigid wind and stuff the bags in the back.
It came to light that I should be quiet about how much I disliked grocery shopping when my server at a local feed and watering hole advised me that she felt I’d do better using a grocery-to-go app.
I mostly gripe about traffic lights and poor driving habits, but I must have added that navigating the aisles and standing in line at the grocery store was the cherry and nuts on my grumpy sundae.
Somewhere in my whining, I might have mentioned that I grocery shop too frequently because I never take a list, often forgetting one or five things I need. I must have said something about how I couldn’t believe what one bag cost me the last time I was in the store.
She took the time to explain the service to this mope and the best way to utilize what she claimed was a time and money-saving service.
As a family lady, she claimed that savings come when she is not picking up things she doesn’t need, menu planning, and having the bags delivered directly to her car limits her habit of selecting the items not on her list.
It all made sense. It’s like an epiphany.
The S.O. is home for a few more days, and she’s implored me to use the app to save aggravation, too. She gave me a brief overview and training, showing me how this works on her device.
There’s a theme here. I’m sometimes too vocal about how much I dislike shopping.
Over the last five years, I’ve learned that I, too, am an impulse buyer when it comes to an unnecessary box of Cocoa Puffs or when sea scallops go on sale—an even better reason to stay outside the store if possible.
But I am burying the lede. While the S.O. checked off the items I wanted to consume over the next few weeks, she asked if I wanted any English muffins.
I buy English muffins every few weeks. I forgot—however—one of the favored foodstuffs of my youth: English Muffin Pizza! They were everywhere in the 70s, and I ate every one I could.
Why that came over me, I have no idea. We added an extra sleeve of English muffins, pizza sauce, and a bag of good mozzarella to our order.
It’s going to be like 1976 at Chez Timmays for a while. The traffic may be better.
It’s like an English muffin time machine.
From the Jagged Edge of America, I remain,
TC