I can no longer shop happily

I am never, ever, ever setting foot in the fucking Giant Supermarket in Huntingdon Valley for as long as I shall live! Dammit!

I live within a convenient driving distance to five supermarkets. I have no loyalty to any of them, because — on some level — there is something I don't like about each one of them. I do most of my supermarket shopping at a Walmart SuperCenter that is a further driving distance than the five nearby supermarkets. But, the prices at Walmart are so ridiculously cheap that I cannot justify going to one of the closer stores when I know I can get the same groceries at as much as half the price on some items. Yeah, I know. Walmart treats their employees like shit and they allegedly have questionable business practices, but who doesn't get treated like shit by their employers? Besides, if I can get a 20 ounce bottle of mustard for 98 cents, I honestly don't care if Walmart kicks their help in the balls when they arrive at work. As the great philosopher/cartoon character Super Chicken once said: "You knew the job was dangerous when you took it."

There's an Aldi near my house. At first I didn't like Aldi. I likened it to shopping in the Twilight Zone, based on their store-branded products so closely mimicking the package designs of national brands. But over time, I have come around to Aldi. They have great produce. Their prices are cheap and their own products — despite their TV prop package designs — are comparable in quality to national brands. The problem with Aldi is they don't carry everything. It is impossible to do a full, old-fashioned shopping trip at Aldi because of their limited variety on a number of products.

Also close by is a Shop Rite, an Acme (part of the Albertsons family of stores) and a Giant (a subsidiary of the multi-national retail conglomerate Ahold Delhaize, not to be confused with the Giant Eagle Mid-West supermarket chain). Shop Rite is a last resort for me, as I always find the place poorly lit, poorly stocked and dirty. They do have pretty good store-brand coleslaw, but that's not enough of an enticement for me. The Acme, which is the closest to my house, is expensive and filled with employees who would rather be anywhere else in the world except in that store. Also, they have this uncanny knack to stop carrying a product that I discover and like on a random visit. It never fails. It's as though they have a list and check off the box that says "Josh Pincus likes this. Do Not Order."

The Giant is the worst and, as I began this blog, I have made my last trip to Giant ever. Mrs. Pincus and I decided to have hot dogs for dinner tonight. A typical summer meal, mine would be of the vegetarian variety and hers would be from the good, God-fearing folks at Hebrew National. We had picked up a bag of chips from Walmart on a previous supermarket run, but had failed to grab a couple of cans of baked beans. And, as you know, Mrs. P cannot be expected to eat hot dogs without the accompaniment of baked beans. That would be like eating peanut butter without jelly or pizza without pineapple. (Oh lighten up! It was a joke!) We like Heinz Vegetarian Baked Beans. We just do. We both grew up eating them and we are very used to their taste. Sure, over the years, we have buckled to store brands on some grocery staples, but we will not yield in some cases — and Heinz Vegetarian Baked Beans is one of those cases. Besides, Heinz is a popular brand and readily available. I happily volunteered to go out in the morning to grab a few cans of baked beans before the start of the afternoon Phillies game. I decided that Giant would be my choice of store this time.

I actually dread going to Giant. I cannot remember a time that I went to Giant and completely filled my shopping order. They are always out of something or they don't carry something or I can't find something after looking in the most logical places. I find their staff to be plentiful, although less than helpful. They usually answer questions like "Where would I find Rice Krispies?" with "Did you check the cereal aisle?" I have often left Giant with bags full of groceries only to head directly to another supermarket to pick up those few items that Giant did not have. And there are always — always —items that Giant does not have.

I drove over to Giant, parked and went into the store. I quickly scanned the signs that hang above each aisle that list the items that could be found within. The one that read "canned vegetables" was the one I wanted. I passed peas and corn and string beans and a range of exotic offerings until I arrived at a small section stocked with baked beans. The shelves were filled with every conceivable flavor of Bush's Baked Beans. There was Original, which contains bacon and, if Mrs. Pincus is partial to Hebrew National hot dogs... well, you do the dietary math. There were other flavors of Bush's Baked Beans — Garlic, Homestyle, Slow-Cooked, Fast-Cooked, Medium-Cooked, Sweet Heat, Brown Sugar, Maple, Country Style, Boston Style and about a hundred other flavors occupying every single shelf. Near the bottom of the section, Campbell's Pork & Beans and Hanover managed to muscle in and grab a sliver of shelf space along side a few rows of Giant's own brand.

But no Heinz. No where. There wasn't even a shelf tag alerting me that I was too late to get a can. There was no room at the inn for Heinz. It was as though the Heinz brand didn't exist on the Giant Supermarket astral plane. I stared at those shelves for a good, long time. I even walked up and down the aisle, thinking maybe — just maybe — Giant relegated Heinz Vegetarian Baked Beans to their own special section. But that was a pipe dream. Giant seemed to be mocking me. As far as Giant was concerned, I could get the fuck out of their store and pound Heinz Vegetarian Baked Beans up my ass in the process. By this time I was fuming. I reluctantly snapped a can (a small can) of Bush's Vegetarian Baked Beans off the shelf and made my way to the checkout area.

My father-in-law's favorite pastime — beside studying the Torah — is leisurely strolling the aisles of Giant the way most people visit an art museum. He peruses the shelves slowly and meticulously, as though he is viewing and appreciating works by Picasso and Renoir. I can't understand his obsession with Giant, but he seems to be there nearly every day. I suppose Heinz Vegetarian Baked Beans is never on his shopping list.

So, Giant is off my list. I'm done! Finished! Through! One down. Four to go.

UPDATE: Shop Rite does not carry Heinz Vegetarian Baked Beans either. Uh-oh.

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