The Pea Pod Report

After, what seemed like an eternity without groceries (may HomeRuns rest in peace), I had to return to the grocery store and do some grocery shopping. As nice as my neighborhood convenience store and pizza place are I finally had to have more than bread, spaghetti, breakfast sausages and a Bon Bon Special Supreme Pizza. In the last year and a half my grocery store rendezvous, which totaled 6, resulted in Express Lane shopping only. I had become accustomed to shopping via the internet in my pajamas. I could do a little shopping then take a nap without milk turning sour or the ice cream melting all over the key board. I could stop and check what was in the cabinet so I was sure to get everything I needed. I could get a load of groceries and not have to worry about lugging them all from my car to may apartment on the fifth floor. But as with a lot of online ventures, HomeRuns dot com closed their cyber portal in June.

My return to the grocery store was like a trip into the Twighlight zone. First off I had to get dressed and actually drive to the store. Upon my arrival, I was immediately tossed into a tizzy of choices. Do I run over the carriages in the parking lot and hope no one takes my plate number and reports me to the grocery cart police or do I drive around them? Do I take a cart from the parking lot into the store or do I hope their are some carts inside? Do I test the maneuverability of the cart before I make the final choice or pick one at random and take my chances? I picked one of two carriages that were empty. (looking back I should have looked for an unattended cart full of groceries and taken that one.) I entered the store and was met with a whirlwind of activity. Carriages being pushed and pulled in every direction with reckless abandon. There were shoppers with their lists and they were checking them twice - right in the middle of designated travel ways. Produce was flying off the shelves at record speed. Deli orders were being taken and filled in record time. The ladies of the bakery were in over-drive etching the frosting messages on their culinary creations.

The lobster pool was a big attraction for the kids. Why do stores sell dead fish but live lobsters? Are crabs just cranky old shriveled up lobsters? Let's start a program to encourage kids to eat more fish and seafood. We'll call it "Squids For Kids." How about "Lobsters For Mobsters?" Are muscles really as strong as their name implies? If you hit a mackerel, will it s-mack-erel you back? Are smelts fish that are past tense? (you might have to think about that one)

After I got through the deli, fish and produce section, I was ready to venture into canned goods, frozen foods and beyond. I was aghast at what I saw. There was no organized traffic pattern. There was no shopping courtesy extended to other shoppers and yielded to other carriages? What is that? Not only were shoppers going both ways (bi-directional shopper?) in the same aisle but also they weren't even keeping to the right. Where do these people think they are shopping? England? Although, some of these people thought they were the Queen of Grocery Land (complete with purse and hat) and were quite annoyed that others expected them to get out of their way. It was a mish mosh of activity. The humanity of it all!!

The meat section was not any better to navigate. Carriages were double and triple parked while the shoppers crawled over each other to get to the freshest meat. The carriage gridlock was made worse by the Snack Lady giving out small bags of snacky something or others in the aisle common with meats. Back in the old days, shoppers would visually inspect the contents of the pre-packaged meats. Now, it was 20 questions for the meat shop attendant. "When was this cow born?" "Is there a death certificate available for those pork sausages?" "Who did the autopsy on that lamb chop?" "How fowl was that chicken?" "Was a quack involved in the untimely death of Daffy?" Such questions! Maybe shoppers in frozen foods would be better controlled.

It must have been wishful thinking, but frozen foods were as out of control as the rest of the store. Being a summer day I can see the attraction of loitering in an air-conditioned store but taking a lawn chair from the picnic display and sitting in front of an open freezer door to keep cool was a bit much. Leaving the kids to play in the ice cream cases was one thing but when they broke out the chocolate syrup and whipped cream I decided I needed no frozen foods.

Snacks and water was the next aisle I decided to conquer. Picnickers and cookout-a-teers were frantically grabbing up all the chips, tortilla's, pretzels and popcorn they could get their hands on. After filling their baskets with the lovely salty treats, they grabbed up all the containers of dips and salsa in sight. These folks didn't strike me as water drinkers but hard core soda poppers but the water flowed off the shelves like Niagara going over the falls.

Grocery shopping was getting to be too much for me. I decided to go straight to milk, eggs and cheese and get the heck out of there. I bypassed hair care and tooth paste, trash bags, laundry detergent and peanut butter and if I had a dog I would have blasted right past the pet food aisle. The cow out back must have run dry, as there was not much milk left on the shelves. With the sparcity of eggs on the shelf probably meant the chickens were on strike until they were assured that euthan-chicken was outlawed. Of all the aisles in the store butter and eggs was the one least traveled. Finally, I had a clear shot at a product without having to fight my way to it. I grabbed a pound of butter and a package of sliced cheese and headed for the checkout.

I had more than 12 items so I did not qualify for the Express Lane checkout, the lane I know so well. I had to make my way through the aisle of indecision. "Am I ready to check out or do I need to travel another aisle in search of items for the carriage?" "Or should I leave my cart in line while I shop for a few more items?" If you thought the gridlock by the meats were bad, you ain't seen nothing yet. Carriages parked, carriages left unattended, carriages abandoned - it was a horrible sight to behold.

I looked at Peapod right after Homeruns closed. I started a shopping list but after picking a few items, I just couldn't continue. The heartbreak of the Homeruns downfall was still too new. A week later, I continued with my shopping list and again, I just couldn't bring myself to be unfaithful to Homeruns even though I knew I would never again take a cyber spin to www.homeruns.com. I couldn't take the stress of going to the grocery store and maneuver through the sea of carriages, no matter how hungry I was. So, I just had to remember what my Nike sneakers say on the side and "Just Do It." I logged onto www.peapod.com and started my shopping. Before I knew it, my shopping was done and I was ready to check out without once hearing the squeak of a carriage wheel or hear questions such as "What size box was this veal cutlet kept in just prior to the whack on the head?" Or "Are you reading that Enquirer or can I use it to swat fly's away from my fruit and vegetables?"

I once again did my grocery shopping via internet and didn't have to leave the comfort of my living room. I did my shopping as I channel surfed through the cooking channels to get the ingredients I would need for my next few meals. I did my shopping without worrying about being run over by an over zealous shopper on their way to the latest "Blue Light Special." (Skip the Blue Light reference. That is another store entirely.)

My order arrived within the requested time frame. I was not taunted by the deliveryman for being a recovering Homeruns customer, although I did keep my left over plastic homeruns shopping bags cleverly disguised as something else. In addition to my order, I received my welcome kit and welcome gift, a box of strawberries as big as golf balls. A very nice touch.

As much as I dearly loved Homeruns, I think I will be able to become a PeaPoddian. I hope I never have to go into a grocery store again and push a cart around.

Gratuities are optional.

That is all I have to report at this time.

Colleen A. Kelley Ó 2001