Since the beginning of the global pandemic, our shopping habits and procedures have changed considerably. Going to buy groceries used to be a regular occurrence for the Pincuses (Pinci?) and sometimes, Mrs. P and I would find ourselves at the supermarket a few times during any given week. Now, we (and by "we," I of course mean my wife) go to pick up our groceries from a list compiled online. Our pre-picked, pre-bagged, pre-paid grocery order is delivered by a masked employee right to the cargo area of our SUV. Simple. Convenient. Annoyance free.
Yeah. Right.
There ain't nothing that is annoyance free, especially in a world occupied by humans. Humans always seem to ruin a perfectly good plan, either by saying something inappropriate or stupid or both. Or by doing something that blatantly goes against the policy of the company for whom they enjoy employment. Or they don't do something they should be doing. Or any combination of the above.
Our first choice for groceries is Walmart, the mighty global retail giant that stocks nearly everything. Their prices on most items are so ridiculously low, it makes one wonder how they can sell things so cheaply and why other stores sell the
identical item for much more money. Oh...
I know the reason! It's because, in order to take advantage of the great prices, you are
forced to go to Walmart. Our weekly trips to Walmart started off great. After the first couple of weeks, their ranking dropped from "great" to "pretty good," as the accuracy decreased and product substitution increased. Soon, Walmart's status was at a solid "okay," with the foreseeable potential of dropping further. Right now, thirty-plus weeks into this shitshow, Walmart is holding steady at "adequate." Lately, our orders have been missing items, requiring a return trip. Once, they forgot an entire bag of groceries. We had to go back to the store, well after their curbside pick-up hours had ended for the day. We had difficulty finding someone —
anyone — who would venture into the now-closed grocery department to retrieve our errant bag. Now, for subsequent orders, we have begun to perform an inventory before we leave the parking lot.
We have also frequented Target for grocery pick up. Target, while still a discount store, is a noticeable step above Walmart. In the pre-COVID-19 days, when we still went in to stores, Target was always cleaner and more orderly than Walmart. And their customer base was well-versed in the art of tucking in a shirt. These days, Target seems to have a better, more-efficient handle on the "curbside pick-up" procedure. Walmart requires customers to book and secure a time slot in which to arrive. Target will happily accept your online order and merely asks for the time you will be in their parking lot (in a newly-delineated area installed since the pandemic began). When you arrive, you log into their website, enter the space number in which you are parked and within a minute or two, a friendly red-and-beige clad employee will appear with your order — sometimes including a free sample product along with the requested items. (Once, we got a fruit rollup. Another time, we got a small box of Cap'n Crunch!) But, even Target isn't perfect. Just this week, Target experienced its first Achilles' heel. As part of our order, I asked for two bottles of Johnson's Baby Shampoo. (Yes, that's what I wash my delicate scalp with, you got a problem with that?) According to the website, it was available, but we were only permitted to place 'one" in our virtual shopping cart. Just before our selected pick-up time, we were informed, via email, that the shampoo was unavailable. "Really?" I exclaimed, to no one in particular, "There's not a single bottle of baby shampoo in that entire store?" No one in particular remained silent. My wife and I headed over to our nearby Target. We parked and notified the store that we were there to accept our order. However, the option to enter your parking spot was unavailable. Someone was required to actually go into the store. Mrs. Pincus donned her mask and gloves, a practice that has become second nature at this point in time, and grudgingly set off for the front entrance. A few minutes later, she returned, holding a plastic Target shopping bag. While at the "pick up" area, she asked about the shampoo, explaining its alleged unavailability. The employee shook her head and said that
baby shampoo is with
baby items, not
health and beauty. Another employee was sent out on a mission and returned with three bottles of the shampoo. I have a hard time understanding how just
one person in Target holds the secret as to the location of baby shampoo... and it's
not the person filling the online orders. Is Target slipping? Oh, say it isn't so!
There's one more place that Mrs. P goes for groceries, but visits have been reduced to approximately once per month. I'm talking about BJ's Wholesale Club. BJ's Wholesale, if you are not familiar, is like Costco and Sam's Club, selling common grocery items in quantiles far too big for the average family to fully consume before some of it spoils. They also stock giant-size containers of things that you would normally purchase one of in a lifetime — like nutmeg. Does anyone who doesn't operate a ski lodge need a hundred and twelve ounces of nutmeg? Mrs. Pincus has graciously been doing the shopping for her parents, as well as for us. So an infrequent stop at BJ's Wholesale can be beneficial for stocking up on large containers of orange juice or cereal or other items that we know we'll use in a reasonable amount of time (
no... not nutmeg). On my wife's most recent trip to BJ's Wholesale, her purchases were actually pretty modest. A bunch of bananas, a couple of heads of lettuce, a case of Polar seltzer for our son and a couple of big bags of Hallowe'en candy that
may or
may not be distributed — the jury is still out. When Mrs. P began placing her items on the conveyor belt at the check out, the cashier felt that it was fully within her rights to comment on my wife's purchases. "Boy, you sure have a big order," she announced.
Now, if you've ever been to a BJ's Wholesale (or Costco or Sam's Club), I'm sure you've seen folks dragging flatbed carts behind them laden to overflowing with cases and cases of various commodities like soda, bottled water, bulk packages of potato chips, giant glass jars of pickles or jalapeno peppers. Sometimes, you'll see people guiding
several overstocked carts through the aisles — as though they are replenishing the staples of a small convenience store or sandwich shop. As a matter of fact, some of these people are doing
just that. Independent businessmen and women come to BJ's Wholesale often — a few times a week sometimes — to buy what they need to help keep their businesses running. Believe me, they are buying way more that eight bananas and a gallon of orange juice. Heck, there were people in the checkout line with triple the order size as Mrs. Pincus's. Why this cashier chose to
marvel at a few bunches of produce and a few bags of candy is beyond me.
Oh, we will get through this dark pall that is hanging over us. COVID-19, I mean. Stupidity we're stuck with.
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