6 things men should know about the grocery store

This column is addressed to men like me. These are highly pampered individuals in marriages or relationships that are not dissimilar to that of Ward and June Cleaver, the parents of Theodore, better known as “the Beaver.” I am Ward. My wife, Carla, is June. Every aspect of my domestic life is in her capable hands.

But here she is, not feeling so well. It is nothing serious, but bad enough that she is asking me to go to the grocery store for two items — a lemon, and a quart of “half and half.”

Men like me generally know the grocery store from the outside. We wait in our cars or trucks, often napping, while our wives go inside. As they emerge pushing large carts filled with a potpourri of items, we quickly greet them in the parking lot. We help unload the items and push the empty cart to its designated storage area. This reflects a comfortable division of labor and ensures a modicum of marital bliss.

If you have not actually been inside the grocery store, following are six insights I recently gained.

First, grocery stores are cold. Imagine walking into a giant refrigerator. I keep a cotton sweater in my car for cold restaurants. After walking as far as the wine racks and beginning to shiver, I made a U-turn, returned to my vehicle, and pulled on the sweater.

Second, you need to understand the importance of a shopping list. More on this later. My list was short, a lemon and half and half. Easy to remember you might think. But entering a grocery store without a list is strictly forbidden by seasoned shoppers.

Third, grocery stores are organized with like items placed in proximity. If you need a lemon, do not think “lemons.” There are no signs for lemons. Think “fresh fruit” like apples, oranges, bananas, and the like, and, yes, lemons. Please be advised that fruit is housed in a super cold room, even colder than the other parts of the grocery store. If you enter this area, know what you need, grab it, and leave before frostbite sets in.

As I marched quickly to a bin of lemons, I realized a short statue was impeding my access. Stepping around it I saw pleading eyes blink and tiny ice crystals cascade down an older man’s cheeks.

I quickly grabbed the distressed shopper under his armpits, tilted him back and dragged him out of the store. I placed his stiff body on a bench in the summer heat.

A slight nod told me I need not call 9-1-1, so I returned to the store, secured a lemon and dashed out of the cold room.

As I was leaving this space, I saw a mother heading toward the frigid air. A young boy sitting in her cart was crying, “Please, mommy. No, mommy.” I whispered, “sorry, kid,” and started looking for half and half.

Fourth, you need to understand that grocery stores are organized for two purposes — the convenience of shoppers and the profits of the company. This is accomplished by displaying items on shelves that are about 7 feet high.

The space between the shelves is called aisles. Aisles are numbered 1, 2, 3, and so forth. Note that the good stuff is displayed on the middle shelves, about eye level. Cheaper and less profitable items are on lower or higher shelves. I found a jar of my favorite Mt. Olive pickles on a middle shelf and placed it in my basket beside my lonely lemon.

As I proceeded toward dairy, I saw an attractive woman about my age standing on her toes trying to reach something on a top shelf. I said, “Ma’am, can I help you?”

“Oh, would you?” she said. “I’m trying to reach a bag of generic chips.”

I reached up and snagged a large brown bag and handed it to her.

She tossed it in her cart and said, “Thank you.” Then, with a wry smile, she said, “I haven’t seen you in here before.”

“I’m new,” I said. As she stepped a bit closer, I held up my hands and said, “I’m married.”

Her smile broadened and she said, “So am I.”

I quickly stepped past her and headed for dairy.

Fifth, you need to know about checkout. There are three types of checkout lines: regular, express, and self-check. By the time I got to checkout I had six items, but I still qualified for express checkout. This is to be desired.

On the other hand, I learned there are benefits in waiting for regular checkout. As you are standing in line while the person in front of you is putting dozens of items on a moving belt that stops at the register, you can read tabloids. Even in the express lane, I learned that the Queen of England was recently seen on an island resort with a 21-year-old aerobics instructor from Devonshire.

I whispered to myself, “I bet they met in a grocery store.”

As I left the store there were now six items in my grocery bag. Outside, I passed the man I had rescued from the fresh fruit room. He was still rubbing his hands and, occasionally his ears. I removed my sweater and draped it over his shoulders. He smiled and nodded his thanks.

Sixth, and finally, you need to understand not only the importance of the list, as mentioned above, but the sanctity of the list. When I arrived home with six items, well, I need to say, this was not a good idea. If your list says a lemon and half and half, I suggest sticking to those two items. I know I will from now on.

I highly recommend the grocery store. There you may find adventure, social acceptance, diversity, equity, interesting facts about foreign figures from tabloids, people in need of help, and an unbelievable number of items, some you need, many you want.

The grocery store is amazing. I am looking forward to my next visit.

Michael McMahan is a resident of Gastonia.

This article originally appeared on The Gaston Gazette: A man's guide to the grocery store