I know. I should have gone to the grocery store earlier this week, but I just couldn’t get there. So this morning, there I was, circling the parking lot at the Loch Raven Towson store looking for a place to park along with dozens of other procrastinators. Not a good sign.
Another bad omen: There were no carts to be found near the store. Bracing myself, I entered the mayhem. I was still shocked. Whole shelves, bins, display cases were empty of products. Did everyone really need bagged lettuce, all manner of cheese, frozen pizzas, and store-made coffeecakes? I didn’t dare go near the toilet-paper aisle.
My list wasn’t extensive (cat litter—thank you, Miss Kitty—and ingredients to make a balsamic chicken dish with pepper-spiked polenta. I’m guilty of snow cooking, too), but the lines to the checkout were at least 10 deep at each register. And that’s where the fun began as people cajoled for a better spot, bemoaned their purchases, and became fast friends in the shopping-cart melee.
There was one woman who blamed her husband for making her come to the store for just salsa and chips. We commiserated knowingly. (A kind person let her move up in line.) There was a guy who became a standup comedian. ("When I came in here, I didn’t need a shave.") And there was another gent who worried about going through the self-checkout for the first time. We supported him.
Somehow, we all got through it. One thing is certain, though. There is going to be a lot of cooking and snacking going on as Mother Nature whips up her own brew outside. Be safe. Eat well.