Navigating amongst the "Special People"

A couple of posts ago, I mentioned that I am a diehard "foodie". Being as such, there is one special place to go for groceries in my area- Sendiks'.

Sendiks' is what one would call an upscale grocery store. When I was a girl, my father used to tell me that the owners had mafia connections, and if the produce wasn't to their liking, they'd arrange for a hit... Anyway, they have a better selection than the local Pick 'N Save, so there I shop....

After spending a good part of the day trying to release Satan's grip on the landscape fabric covering a good part of my foundation, it occurred to me that the "fam" might want the third meal of the day that evening. You guessed it... off to shop at Sendiks'!

I am the kind of chick who always shops with a list. I know where everything is, have a set order for how I proceed through the aisles, and generally "haul ass" through the store. Unfortunately, despite the fact that this store carries some great raw ingredients to whip up a pretty darn gourmet spread, it is also patronized by "special people". These "special people" are the women who go there to "see and be seen", and probably have no interest/aptitude for food preparation (take-out/lean cuisine/household help- you get it, right?). Sometimes, the "special people" and I are set on a course set for disaster...

So... yesterday, I selected the perfect block of cheddar, and was getting ready to head to the registers. As I turned a cautious right, there were two women, and carts, strategically placed perpendicularly in my path. I slowly approached them, assuming that they, like the Red Sea, would part. Nope. All of a sudden, another woman also came upon these clucking hens from the opposite direction; the Red Sea didn't part for her, either. I looked at her, and then she looked at me. I think the translation of that exchange was probably as follows: "Oh, please, don't stop talking! It's all about the two of you!! Never mind us, we'll just turn around 180 degrees with a rusted-out cart and meander around the l-o-n-g way. We're here to make your life easier, after all!" I'm pretty convinced of the power of my "look of death", but the other trapped woman really had it down. With great fanfare, the "special people" parted just enough so we could eek by, one at a time. Not to be outdone, I gave my best glare as I passed by with my loot. Do you think they cared???

I love cooking, and I love eating. In order to accomplish both, a trip to the grocery store is required. "Special People", please give our Sendiks' back to those of us who appreciate it, and use it for what it was intended; you can "stop traffic" all you want at the nail salon and botox parlor!