Shopping Spree

 Tim and I had to run up to Jamestown for an appointment. When it was done, we went to our favorite produce market and stocked up on fresh vegetables. We stopped into Aldi's and picked up milk. Here in Pennsylvania, a gallon of milk will cost you between $4.50 and $5. There, it was $2.70 or some darn thing. When you can buy milk at that price, it becomes sensible once again to make your own yogurt, which costs $4 or thereabout for a 32 oz container. 

Tim wanted to make one last stop on the way home and so we hit the Home Depot, which is right next to the Wegman's. Since they have such a big international foods department, I was eager to see if I could find the nori sheets I need, the one last remaining item for my sushi making experiment. 

 They have a whole aisle Asian foods! They had exactly what I needed.

Tim is traveling to Olean to pick up a furnace for parts on tomorrow (Thursday) which will give me a perfect opportunity to experiment with my sushi maker, and I am excited for that, as silly as it sounds. 

But walking into the Wegman's always gives me a flashback. Long ago, when I was not yet 40, I took five children, three of my own, and two nephews to the theater to see a movie. After that, we had a stop to make at the Wegman's. Juice boxes were on sale. My sister wanted me to pick up a big bag of dog food. Just a bit of odds and ends. 

So, I'm pushing the cart through the store accompanied by my entourage, and I was disappointed to find that they had no juice boxes. Sold out. Except, what to my wondering eyes should appear, at the top of the warehouse racking, was a whole new pallet of juiceboxes, wrapped in plastic wrap. 

A young employee was walking by and so I said pleasantly, "Hey, those juiceboxes on sale? You've got a whole pallet of them on top. Could we get someone with a fork truck to lift them down?" 

And the whippersnapper said, "If you can't reach them, I guess they aren't on sale, are they?" and laughed. 

I said, "Oh. I can reach them," and began climbing. It was a three tier rack and truth be told, I am a bit afraid of heights which I'd forgotten in my irritation, but once up there, I liberated a couple cases of juice boxes, and noticed that from my vantage point 1) there were blue vests headed my way from all directions of the store, 2) that all my entourage had abandoned me, save for one lone nephew (to this day, I cannot tell you where they went) and 3) getting two cases down was going to be a bit dicey. 

I sorted out the last problem by simply climbing partway down, reaching over my head to lift the cases, one at a time, down to the second tier. The manager was making a lot of distracting noises about getting down, which I was in the process of doing, and the rest of the blue vests seemed to be simply unsure what to do and just stood there. 

By the time that I was climbing down from the second tier, I was able to reach over my head and pull the two cases down and hand them directly off to the manager which gave him something to do besides make distracting noises. 

Once I was on the floor, he said, "You need to ask for help!" in a very officious tone, and I said, "I did, and the response that I got was 'if you can't reach them, they aren't on sale'," which to my mind was an open invitation to help myself. 

Oh my gosh. His eyes bulged and he said, "What was his name? What did he look like?" etc. I had a feeling it was going to be a bad day for that teenager. 

In the end, the manager accompanied me as I finished up my shopping, talking cheerfully and asking repeatedly, "Was it him? What about that one?"  My scattered entourage slowly joined up with me once again, and by the time that I got to the checkout, I had same five children I had walked in with, which was good news. 

The manager put my items on the conveyer and said, "No charge for the juice boxes!" and "Oh, just give her that dog food!" and even, "We'll give you that pot roast too." My nephew said, "If you would have broken your neck, I bet you would have gotten the whole store!" 

The manager escorted us out to the car, and waved good bye as we left. 

When we got home, those five members of the entourage leaped from the car and ran into my sister's house yelling "Aunt Debby got thrown out of Wegman's!" (technically not true...the manager had been wonderfully attentive) and "Mom climbed up the warehouse racks!" (which was true, but there was just cause...the juice box sale was a good one.) My sister and brother in law looked quite wide eyed, but settled themselves in for the rest of the story.  

The little rat finks. 

Those little rat finks are now pretty much the same age as I was back then. They have little rat finks of their own. 30 years later, I walk through the store remembering that day with a little smile. I miss that woman sometimes. 

Luckily, I could reach the nori with no problem, and the manager did not recognize me.