Yesterday--when all my troubles seemed right in my lap.
Remember when I was all depressed, that day? Boy, good thing I didn’t post to my blog, because really, who wants to read my pathetic, self-involved whining? It would be like watching a kitten with a wounded paw trying to climb some stairs. Am I right, about the kitten? Not even a cute kitten, let me add. One of those hairless types. With a bad eye.
(I just wrote “bad idea” instead of “eye,” which amused me. I like very much the image of a kitten with a bad idea. “I think I’ll mash up some Dexedrine and mix it with a Coke!” thought the kitten with the bad idea. “Kitties need uppers!”)
Yesterday I thought I was feeling better, and then I went to the supermarket. The suburban supermarket is a terrible place. I was so tired of the tiny, cramped supermarkets of Brooklyn, in which all of the aisles are designed to be exactly two inches narrower than the average stroller. Many a supermarket clerk heard the grunts and curses of a disheveled mom trying to hoist her stroller over boxes of yams and Depends in Aisle 6. And oh, I would think, how I would like a car! A car that one could load up with the many groceries, instead of hanging one’s grocery bags from one’s bodily parts and then attempting to drag one’s bag-laden self and one’s ornery child homeward!
But it turns out I was stupid to think these things, because the supermarkets here, they drive me even nutsier. First off, they’re way too big to find anything. You’re looking for some arugula and there are 57 arugula aisles, and the organic arugula is in one of them but you’ll never know which, and then you think SCREW THIS I’ll just grab some romaine hearts and the romaine hearts are 300 miles away, in the Romaine Wing (Hearts Aisle). So even if you’re going to the store for three items, it will still take you a day and a half. Pack a lunch.
And also during the day, the only other people in the supermarket are senior citizens. Not just senior citizens—ultra-seniors. The over-90 set wanders the many aisles all day long, looking for the bus back to their assisted living facility. They like to amble in front of your cart and demand that you help them located the roasted cashews.
Finally, starving and exhausted, I staggered to the cashier, who asked for my Super Value Savings Saver Plus Card, and I had to tell her I didn’t have one. She looked at me like I had just confided that all these groceries were for my satanic baby-eating feast. "I don’t understand," she said, and I said, “I—I just don’t have one“ and she said “You have to have one,” Shop-Rite must have your personal information before you can partake in the savings, which of course isn’t true, strictly speaking, but is true for these exceedingly concerned cashiers who just want you to get the savings! The sweet savings! So finally she got the special Newcomer Courtesy Card or whatever that enabled me to save 38 cents, and she let me go. But it still took me 45 minutes to get to my car because of all the old people who died on their way to the exits.
I finally got to my car, where I cried into my steering wheel, because I still couldn’t see the humor in any of it. Luckily it’s hitting me today. A little late, but it’s coming to me.



In Time magazine this week, there's an article on how to shop for healthy groceries. It's got a big fold-out map of the common store layout. Maybe you could take that with next time, to help find the organic arugula.
Of course, those super-seniors will still be in the way.
Posted by: EJW | June 08, 2006 at 09:42 PM
Arugula, Schmarugula. Personally, I buy the handy bag o' salad! Embrace the suspicious convenience foods, I say! Preserve yourself!
ANYway. Lurking delurking to say I hope things get better. Soon.
Posted by: scarlettbgonya | June 08, 2006 at 09:55 PM
Oh God. It's funny that when you're in a new place and completely miserable, you become nostalgic about the most ridiculous things - things you didn't even know were IMPORTANT, like cramped grocery stores and dirty sidewalks and people under the age of 1,000 walking the streets.
I know. I really, really know what you mean. The most recent day I cried my way home was driven by a quick stop off at the dry cleaners in one of those annoying Super Strip Malls that only exist in suburbia. I wandered for a moment in the mall, finding myself in an innocuous-looking department store of sorts, and happily wandered the aisles. It was when I ran smack, face-to-face into Jesus - or a large cardboard cutout of him - that I realized I was in some sort of bizarre Christian superstore, the likes of which I'd never HEARD OF, and would certainly be outlawed or laughed out of my native Boston.
I bawled the whole way home. It was all too unfamiliar and weird.
Oh Alice. I know what you mean so viscerally.
Posted by: jonniker | June 08, 2006 at 10:02 PM
I think adjusting to new grocery stores is actually one of the worst parts of moving. Now I have to go to like 6 different grocery stores in order to find almost all of usual day to day staples that were in one grocery store in Eugene. I've finally found my Emerald Valley salsa, but Rogue Creamery cheese and Tillamook ice cream? Nope. I'm sure I'll grow to appreciate bay area brands...eventually.
Posted by: christa | June 08, 2006 at 10:13 PM
I was at a party last night discussing our local grocery's "preferred card". (Really, it was a better party than it sounds.) They used to "lend" you the cashier's preferred card if you forgot yours, but, NOW,they will not! You are just out of luck, shoppers! You will save no money here! Not unless we can track your purchasing. My friend left her overflowing cart right there, as did two other shoppers. Fight the power! Well, the supermarket power anyway.
Posted by: Jaycee | June 08, 2006 at 10:27 PM
This is super-hilarious to me, because I'm a life-long suburban supermarket shopper, and I'd've thought you city types with your fast-walkin ways would be able to zip through. The wide aisles allow for easy maneuvering around the ultra-senior looky-loos.
I will admit that sometimes the supermarkets put things, ordinary things, in the strangest places: why the christ does my local Albertson's stock the peanut butter in the corner-- the far corner, you know near, the restroom-- of the bakery section? It's in a jar! It should be with the other jarred items!
Posted by: camille | June 08, 2006 at 10:43 PM
hang in there darlin.. it WILL get better! just think, you could buy all that arugula and um..throw a party!
Posted by: jennster | June 08, 2006 at 10:59 PM
In Seattle there is a supermarket with hardwood floors, a sushi bar, an espresso lounge with comfy chairs and a television, a child care room, a fountain display in the wine subdivision and courtesy clerks discretely nearby to aid you in case you look slightly distressed. I want to live in that store. I would like a cot near the huge kosher food refrigerated unit off the bakery. I'm saving to buy a collection of wigs so no will notice me hanging around or grabbing a change of clothes from the backstock in the produce section where I use the handheld showerheads. If they put in a computer cafe I will keep in touch.
Posted by: far and away the farthest | June 08, 2006 at 11:00 PM
There, there. I cry at the supermarket, too. Something about all that yogurt in one central location makes me all weepy inside.
Posted by: Dad Gone Mad | June 08, 2006 at 11:02 PM
I have a hairless cat with one eye. His name is Dobby. He's cuter than you'd think, and he can fetch toys. The whole cat package!
Posted by: Sarah | June 08, 2006 at 11:06 PM
I have lived in the suburbs my whole life...even now that I do live in an offical "BIG CITY" I live and do most of my wandering the the suburb parts of it. (West Coast big cities are not like East Coast big cities). But, I haved moved and I do know that is hard. Sometimes impossibly hard, and that was before I had kids, so hang in there. I'm sure there are other dislocated New Yorkers around somewhere, that aren't over 90?
Posted by: meg | June 08, 2006 at 11:06 PM
I do my shopping at the 24-hour supermarket. I like to go at 2AM in the morning all hopped-up on ceffeine and then complain to the manager that the deli counter isn't open. It's part of my suburban resistance movement.
It will get better.
Oh, who am I kidding. Welcome to hell. ;-)
No, really, it will get better.
Posted by: jozet | June 08, 2006 at 11:08 PM
How is it you are shopping in my grocery store in California from New Jersey? I swear they set the old folks loose when I leave the garage and head to the store.
I move approximately every 30 days, or so it seems, and I'm always having to learn new store layouts. Even for the same chain. In fact, they just remodeled my Target here and I can't find anything. I promise, in a few weeks, you'll have the place down cold and you'll be in and out in under a full day.
Posted by: Annie | June 08, 2006 at 11:11 PM
OK suburban newbie, here is the suoermarket low down-
Shoprite is totally for seniors, and if you think shopping is with them is bad pay attention in the parking lot.
stop and shop id for the younger hipper type- and they have a delivery service called Peapod that iwll deliver your groceries for an additional $5- which is completely woth it when you consider the money you will save by not buying impulse purchases or bribing Henry with the video or book on display just so you can read a label or two.
The smallest and nicest of the classic supermarkets is Kings- freshest produce, most organics, hardly ever lines, but you pay a little more.
If you want to go all the way- it's Whole Foods for you. It is paradise for an organic shopper and the smallest and friendliest by far. You will pay through the nose for anything that is prepared, but if you stick there store brands and buy simply it is one of those places that will ruin you for all the others.
Good luck, and I was serious in that email last night, you can call.
Posted by: clickmom | June 08, 2006 at 11:16 PM
Dear God the stupid savings card. You dont' have those in the city?
I'm leaving here and moving to the city because I hate those stupid cards. JUST GIVE ME YOUR STUPID SALE PRICE YOU ASSHOLES.
I now have 5 extra cards on my keyfob. One for my gym, one for the Y, one for the grocery store and another for the zoo. It infuriates me and yet, I'm powerless to struggle against it.
That's why I'm in therapy.
Tell me, did you drive your cart full of groceries all over the corpses? Because if you did? I just can't understand what you're so upset about in the suburbs.
You get to drive over corpses with your grocery cart. And some carts are shaped like trucks Alice.
Okay, yes, it's depressing.
Posted by: melissaS | June 08, 2006 at 11:44 PM
oh, alice. you know, i feel your pain, and when i'm hating the grocery store, i just run over the old people. i live in phoenix, so there are always plenty more. maybe i could send some to you in new jersey?
Posted by: kristin | June 09, 2006 at 12:13 AM
I hate those damn cards. I always fill them out that my number is 555-1212 and I live at 666 Hell Lane, and my name is Bruce Springsteen. However, luckily my husband fills them out right. He won a trip to Hawaii 3 years ago because of one of those damn cards. He even took me, didn't seem to mind I am bitch. I still hate the cards though.
Posted by: Lisa V | June 09, 2006 at 12:17 AM
I also cry and freak out and get anxiety in the grocery stores.
I don't like all the people touching me, jostling me,walking in front me S L O W L Y and then running over my foot as they puruse the beans ever so intently.
Plus the lighting makes me want to kill myself in the produce aisle.
Needless to say, my husband does most of the shopping, bless him.
That's the answer Alice!!
Posted by: Deb | June 09, 2006 at 12:17 AM
Would now be a good time to invite you to come over and swim in my basement? ;)
Posted by: Mir | June 09, 2006 at 12:27 AM
It could be worse. You could be shopping in So Cal, where the seniors trolling the aisles have had major plastic surgery, so they have perky tits and rock hard abs, along with that surprised 3-face lift expression, which is all very disconcerting when they are still moving at 0.015 mph or standing in the middle of the aisle peering at a shopping list.
OR you could go to the Trader Joe's in Westlake, where I heard a little girl say to her nanny "You know Joshua's family? They're getting a personal chef, TOO."
Or pop down the street to Gelson's, where an 8 1/2 month pregnant friend had someone in a BMW HONK at her to get out of the way as she crossed the parking lot. Yes, they did.
But I'm not bitter. I moved 6 months ago and live within walking distance of 3 badly-organized Mexican supermarkets, all of which I love. No savings cards there, just pork ears on the counter and miles of tortillas.
Posted by: Suebob | June 09, 2006 at 12:50 AM
I don't know how it is in them there NYC or NJ supermarkets, but in our supermarkets (in Southern California) there are usually a plethora of stockpeople basically just wandering around the store reshelving the Rosarita refriend beans. Ask them where stuff is -- they usually know, and if they don't, they'll find it out for you. In my experience, they're always really eager and willing to help you out, and after they show you where things are the first couple of times, you'll 1) start remembering where they are and 2) start understanding better the layout of that store. Honestly, I've lived in suburbs all my life and I still get lost in grocery stores. The stockpeople are lifesavers!
Just my $0.02. :-) Good luck!
Posted by: Cathy | June 09, 2006 at 01:03 AM
*refried beans. Although "refriend beans" gives you some some food for thought....oh, "food for thought"! Like, beans, food.....food for thought....
I'm going to stop writing now.
Posted by: Cathy | June 09, 2006 at 01:07 AM
Have you grilled out yet? That'll make you feel better. And make me feel jealous.
Posted by: Moxie | June 09, 2006 at 01:23 AM
honestly, when i am behind and oldie in the line at the pharmacy where they are asking a million questions about how much aspirin to take and THEN they get out their wallet, dust it off and count out 6432 pennies to pay for their purchase BUT not before they lose count and have to start over at least twice i want to yell "MOVE IT BLUE HAIR!!!!!". ahem.
Posted by: jenB | June 09, 2006 at 02:17 AM
I've walked out of grocery stores because I couldn't make any more decisions. Abandon Cart! Abandon Cart!
So I think you're doing pretty well, considering. And it will get better, as you know (although I do understand that KNOWING and FEELING are different things).
Posted by: tuckova | June 09, 2006 at 02:48 AM
Alright pet, I know you're feeling down, but I hope you can take heart in the knowledge that even when depressed, you are still so goddam funny. I really enjoy reading your stories, and hope that sometime soon you are smiling in the same way you make me smile with your writing. Romaine Wing (hearts aisle) indeed.
I'm sending you happy thoughts from over here in the U.K.(you're so global, lady!)
:)
Posted by: Anna | June 09, 2006 at 04:06 AM
I have now been banned from the store where my boyfriend works because threatening an old lady with a jar of blackberry jam after she refused to move herself or her trolley out of my way was seen as aggressive for some reason.
There must be some kind of alarm that goes off every time I walk into one of those damn places that alerts every single senior that I am there so they can seek me out and shuffle in front of me.
I think it should be a law that if an old person can't walk faster than a newly crawling baby, they should not be allowed out alone.
Posted by: Brightflowermaid | June 09, 2006 at 05:40 AM
There, there. It's true, once you've shopped in the rat-maze supermarkets of Brooklyn, everything else is overwhelming.
The huge, suburban market closest to us is so friggin' depressing, I drive an extra five minutes (horrors!) to go to the snazzier, pricier, yuppier market. It just makes me feel better. Plus, they have random international items like lemongrass. Somehow that makes this place seem a little less provincial.
I still miss asking the stockboys questions in Spanish, though.
Posted by: madge | June 09, 2006 at 07:17 AM
I'm so so so sorry that you're having a hard time. It's a huge adjustment, city to suburb living.
Seriously, though, I live in the suburbs. And have never laughed HARDER during blog-reading than I did at your description of the grocery store. You are RIGHT ON.
I hope things feel brighter for you soon.
Posted by: Paige | June 09, 2006 at 07:25 AM
I know it's hard, oh so hard, to get used to such massive places as the supermarket. Here in the suburbs they seem to make them bigger and bigger every year. At our local super-duper market they have a senior day - when senior citizens get extra savings. Avoid that day at all costs! We call it "f*cked up Tuesday". Make sure that you're not shopping on that day!
Posted by: Elleana | June 09, 2006 at 07:43 AM
WORK THE PERIMETER, my friend. Don't stray down the aisles unless it's absolutely necessary. All the real food is on the perimeter of the store. Unless you're going to an Albertson's chain store, in which case they've decided to put half the dairy into frozen-looking cases, and you can't find the eggs because you think they're located among the goddamn frozen waffles.
Okay, I just second the Whole Foods idea, since that's my favorite place at this point, anyhow. And mine! My new one? It's tighter than Zabar's. I have to take the mini upright carts to keep from knocking over the tattooed senior hippies and their domestic partners loitering in the "bulk herbs" aisle. (I opted for a more urbanward move, I guess.) But if I buy vitamins and coffee, I can still pack $50 into a hand basket without straining my untoned arms.
Posted by: Effective Nancy | June 09, 2006 at 08:14 AM
Crying? There's no crying in shopping!
I'm sorry your day sucked butt but selfishly, we reap the benefits. I'm loving The Suburbs According to Alice.
Posted by: Mom101 | June 09, 2006 at 08:28 AM
Wow, all the senior citizen-bashing in the comments is saddening. I hope we never get old! Can't we just hate the gigantic kiddie carts with the truck appendages? Those are impossible to maneuver around tight corners, but they apparently make my kiddo's life worth living, so you can see the dilemma. ;^)
Posted by: Beth | June 09, 2006 at 08:38 AM
"The old people who died on their way to the exits"!
Definitely one of the funniest descriptions of a super market. Ever.
I'm sorry you're getting so much fodder for 'humor is pain remembered at leisure', but thanks for letting us in on all of it. (well, a part of it at least). You're the cutest hairless, one-eyed kitten ever.
Posted by: OTRgirl | June 09, 2006 at 08:54 AM
Hahaha I chuckled at the part about the old people dying on their way to the exits. Hilarious. I find the best time to go grocery shopping is Friday, Saturday, or Sunday night when it's dark out and all the old people are home sleeping (dying), good families are spending time together around the tube or the dinner table, and my entire demographic is out partying and getting wasted.
Posted by: Erin | June 09, 2006 at 09:00 AM
Old people really do go to these places to die.
Posted by: Buffy | June 09, 2006 at 09:02 AM
Next time the old people ask you for some roasted cashews, just hand them a box of Dexedrine. It's good old-fashioned fun that may cheer you up. The old people usually don't even notice. Plus, it gets them moving through the aisles in no time!
Posted by: MetroDad | June 09, 2006 at 09:02 AM
You, too, will be old one day. Unless, of course, you are not. Ah, the arrogance of youth. How about a little compassion?
Posted by: Janet | June 09, 2006 at 09:08 AM
Former Brooklynite also living in New Jersey now. I remember going to ShopRite and asking an employee where the tahini was. First let me say, I just knew he was going to look at me like I had 6 heads. And he did. He said, "Ta - what???" I did find it though ;-) on my own, a million years later. Because these supermarkets here really do have mostly everything you need, which is one good thing.
Posted by: anita | June 09, 2006 at 09:16 AM
oh my god yer funny. i wish you posted everyday, its nice to wake up to a good hearty laugh!
Posted by: andrea | June 09, 2006 at 09:23 AM
Hee - I misread the Romaine Wing as the Romanian Wing, and what type of ethnic foods do they have in Jersey??
Oh honey. I'm sorry.
Posted by: daysgoby | June 09, 2006 at 09:24 AM
Oh, the old people. At least I know I'm not the only one they accost. Wait until you get the guy that follows you from aisle to aisle, whistling that toothy horse-whistle that sounds like nails on a chalkboard. There's no escape from him, because if you zip over to the other end of the store and reverse your trip, he will catch on and find you. Or Body Odor Guy. Or Sweaty Middle-Aged Couple. Or Family in the Middle of a Fight. Watch out for them, too.
At least you might actually still be close enough to the city for your grocery stores to be open till 9 on a Sunday. Mine aren't. I had such a rude awakening the first time I tried to do my grocery shopping at 7pm on a Sunday! What kind of deranged town is this, where stores are not open all night for my personal convenience?
Wendy
Posted by: Wendy | June 09, 2006 at 09:36 AM
Ah yes, the pain of grocery shopping. Sure you have a massive selection and can get everything in one trip BUT that trip will take you an entire afternoon, you'll age, new presidents will be elected, cities will fall and rebuild themselves while you wander the aisles.
I can deal with the old people, I just walk really fast and they seem to jump out of my way now. The hugeness isn't a problem anymore either, I know where everything is and I have a 'route'. What really chaps my hide is getting to the checkout area and seeing they have three lanes open for about 40 people and their cars are heaping full.
I have actually waited to check out for a half hour. I fell asleep while standing.
Posted by: Hope | June 09, 2006 at 09:38 AM
I like it when you're a striken suburban super savings saver supermarket shopper. It makes for great blogging. Though I admit I do have a hard time gathering my sympathies when I'm so wonderfully amused.
I'll try harder.
Posted by: Summer | June 09, 2006 at 09:39 AM
I have the Super Savings Card for my local grocery, and my husband and I scrupulously spent at least $40 there for 14 of the last 16 weeks so we could get a free set of garden tools. Now, we are going for the free set of barbecue tools. And even despite all that, we still have a happy life. Take heart. Someday you too will have a free set of garden tools.
Posted by: Kristin | June 09, 2006 at 09:47 AM
Alice, one word: Wegman's. (I think they have them in North Jersey---hopefully by you!) It's like the best of Zabar's, Whole Foods, and a regular supermarket all thrown together at once.
AND the preferred shopper card really pays off there. Every year, we are one of their Top 50 customers at our local store (really quite pitiful considering that we are a family of 3) and at Xmastime we get a $50 gift card, a bakery gift certificate, a gift bag, AND a hearty hug from the store manager.
Hope things get easier for you....
Posted by: E | June 09, 2006 at 09:51 AM
Oh, Alice. I'm so glad I have you around to make me feel better about myself. :)
I love the supermarket, because it's a super! market, and I love to wander around, leaning on my buggy, looking at people and trying to figure out where the mustard is located. That mustard is never where you think it will be.
Posted by: jes | June 09, 2006 at 10:00 AM
God, you are so funny
Suburban mega-store & old people:
Last year, I'm exiting said mega-store & while I'm waiting for a safe moment to cross to the gargantuan parking lot, 2 old (I mean, at least in the latter 70 to early 80 age category) ladies are standing there, having conversation & 1 says to the other: "Are you waiting to get picked up?"
And the other one answers: "Oh, no, I already have a husband."
Now, I knew what Old Lady #1 meant: "Are you waiting for someone to come & drive you home." But apparently, Old Lady #2 views the suburban supermarket as her local hot spot. Just as I'm crossing the road, I hear OL #2 say: "But you might have some luck if you go over to the liquor department." (!)
So many things not right about this: I know the elderly need to eat & all, but are these people who don't even seem to know where they are being allowed to DRIVE for heaven's sakes?
Don't worry about the crying. At least you made it to the privacy of your car before losing it. I've had grocery store/mega-supermarket incidences where I've actually wept (thank God for sunglasses) before I got out of the building.
Posted by: Terry | June 09, 2006 at 10:18 AM
If I had a god I believed in, it would be Humour.
I'm sorry about all the old people dying all over the place in your new neighbourhood. It must be hell on your car to have to drive over them before they clear the streets in the morning.
Posted by: schmutzie | June 09, 2006 at 10:20 AM
There is one huge advantage to shopping in big suburban stores. The checkers NEVER know their produce. Need shallots? They'll ring them up as yellow onions. Escarole sounds good, but the $2.50 a head too steep? No worries! They'll think its green leaf lettuce. I do sometimes dispair when I'm stocking up on nice, fresh fennel bulbs (I guess I'm the only person in Arlington, TX who buys them) and they can't find the price code, but usually they'll accept that it's a fancy kind of celery priced at 99 cents a bundle.
Yes, suburbia has its suckitude and it is magnified at the grocery store. You just have to look for the little victories!
Posted by: Allison | June 09, 2006 at 10:25 AM