Patchy Pop Culture: What's the Toughest Item to Find in the Supermarket?

This week's installment of Patchy Pop Culture takes South Windsor Patch editor Ted Glanzer and Vernon Patch Editor Chris Dehnel to one of the most sacred of institutions.

The supermarket.

Both are revered in their circles for an ability to know bargains, get in and out quickly and make the entire process a model of efficiency.

Unless, of course, they get stopped somewhere in the frozen foods section by an angry resident wondering why his trash was not picked up on Friday.

But that is not the focus this week. Oh no, the topic of conversation is …

THAT THING you cannot seem to find.

Chris is up first this week with a tale from the Rockville Stop & Shop eight days ago:

All was well. We were planning a milestone birthday party for my wife and I was headed to the Italian-American Club hall to decorate.

I figured I'd go into Stop & Shop mid-morning to see if the cake was ready.

Nope. At least I was able to say hi to the Boy Scouts at their candy drive.

So I head to the hall to set it up with a few friends of hers. At about noon, I head back over to Stop & Shop pick up the cake. I say hi to the Boy Scouts again, get the cake, place it in the cart and get in line to check out. It's a little busy.

Buzzzzzzzzzz.

Uh oh text message. Seems to be a need for sparkling water at the house. I get out of line.

"Excuse me."

"Pardon Me."

"Oh, ugh, was that your toe?"

I make it to the the water aisle.

Not there. Really? It's the water aisle.

Hmm … sparkling. Implies bubbles - soda. Off to that aisle. There it was - sparkling seltzer water in a variety of flavors.

I drop off the cake and head home. I place the water on the counter. It;s lime and wild berry - conservative choices everyone likes. 

"Oh not that kind."

"What?"

There is apparently something else sparkling that is also considered water.   

At about 4 that afternoon, the kids were  bouncing off the walls, so I decided to take them to pick out dinner before the sitter showed up. The one stipulation was no fast food.

It was back to Stop & Shop, where the kids picked out popcorn chicken nuggets (they liked the name), chips, and breaded cheese sticks.

I decided to go back for the water.

Still not in the water aisle.

(Bad word under breath).

Nothing different in the soda aisle.

(Worse word).

I threw my arms up and headed to the checkout, confident at least that the kids would be having an absolute culinary event in a few minutes.

"What the …"

There at the end of one of some aisle, tucked way, was this stuff called flavored sparkling water.

And on sale.

It made no sense, but I grabbed two bottles, went home and watched the feast take form.

Now it just dawned on me. It's not on sale anymore, so where the heck will it be next time?

Or where won't it be?

Ted's turn:

I have a very poor relationship with grocery stores. I’ve said before in another column that I have been left out in the wild for too long before I got married. So little things like trips to the grocery store confound me.

For example, whenever I go to the grocery store, I never, ever, under any circumstances, take a cart, no matter how many items I’m buying. A cart is just way too much of a commitment and represents an encumberance on free-flowing movement for me. Whenever I walk past the carts at a supermarket, I always pre-emptively break up with them by saying it’s not them, it’s me.

Also, the basket enables me to get away with always going into the 12 items or less line. The other lines - the cart lines - are for grown ups who require the purchase of $3,500 worth of groceries.

Also, I am very rigid when it comes to my grocery store visits. You get what is on the list. Nothing more. Nothing less.

Not on the list? Then it ain’t comin’ home.

If something is on the list? Oh, we can’t leave until we find it.

Which brings me to the Great Lemon Juice Incident that took place on Christmas Eve of 2000.

I was in the Super Stop & Shop in Colchester when I was tasked to pick up a few things for the following day’s dinner.

One of the items was lemon juice.

No lie, it took me an hour combing through the aisles to find it. Did you know that, unlike all the other juices that are lumped together in the same section, lemon juice has its own little universe?

And don’t ask, “But Ted, why didn’t you ask someone where it was?”

Because be quiet, that’s why. Grocery lists are miniature scavenger hunts. As men, we don’t get to do the whole “hunter/gatherer” thing very much any more. So dang it, I stalked that lemon juice and I killed it (or the 21st century version of killing it: chucking it in my basket and subsequently paying for it). I don’t recall thumping my chest in some primal display of territoriality, but I should have.

Anyhoo, when I got home, I remember the person I was dating at the time asking me what took so long.

Stupidity and genetics, that’s what.