Why I Hate Grocery Shopping Reason #852

Let me reiterate why I loathe trips to the grocery store. Because people won' leave me 'lone! I swear, I went to Harris Teeter today, totally relaxed on my way over, anticipating a leisurely stroll through the aisles and a strict adherence to the post-it sized list in my pocket. Procuring items for my mini-buggy (I witnessed a Target employee in NC hollering to his coworker to "Go get the buggy train!" Thank you, Southern folks. I knew I wasn't the only one) was painless and almost pleasant but then I arrived at the check-out and realized my VIC card was on the keychain still hanging by my front door. Blast.

I tried both phone numbers, knowing neither would work as I tend to provide as little personal information as possible. Then I was sent to customer service, then I was sent back to the first cashier who was already ringing up other people, then I was abrasively asked by another cashier if she could ring me up at which point I felt the need to explain my lack of VIC card again to which she responded by haranguing me into signing up for another one despite my reluctance to do so. Ugh. I assented with as much grudginess as I could muster. THEN she wanted to me to put my email on the form for the eVIC account so I could get special offers. "No thanks," I said. She gave me a sidelong glance. "You don't want to get special coupons?" Unbelievable. Just take no for an answer. "Nah, that's ok," I replied. Her next words dripped with disapproval - "Mmmmm, ok." We did, however, survive the checkout process with a fake laugh or two and an "ooh, girlfriend" from her and then I was on my merry stressed out way.

Or so I thought. I was barely to the buggy corral when ANOTHER employee clear over by the door called out "HELLO!" I said hi and avoided eye contact as I parked my cart. She kept talking. "Do you have an eVIC account?" "Uhm, no ma'am I don't." "Well do you have a VIC card?" "Yes, yes I do." "Would you like to sign up for an eVIC account today?" "No, that's ok." She looked at me like I'd just grown another head. "But you'd get savings!!" Oh. My. Word. I had officially reached the point where I wanted to drop all of my bags on the ground and yell "Would you people PLEASE LEAVE ME ALONE! Can't a girl go grocery shopping in peace? I don't want your stupid email offers, I just want to go home!"

I huffed back to my house with my three bags and was so miffed I went ahead and cooked my $3.99 on clearance pizza, an item who's simplicity in preparation I was hoping to save for another night. Grumble grumble grumble. Where are my grocery shopping minions when I need them?