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To Conquer or to get conquered: a series of grocery store narratives

This article is written by a student writer from the Her Campus at Dalhousie chapter.

Have you ever been wandering up and down the isles of the Atlantic Superstore, trying to decide if you can eat an entire loaf of bread that night because it’s on sale and side-stepping the elderly in pursuit of the perfect bunch of bananas and suddenly wondered: who is the president making all of these choices?

The fact I need to wonder is what worries me most. I do not know anything about the Superstore’s political system. I fear I could be blindly following an authoritarian leader. I desire nothing more than to know what goes on behind those swinging doors leading to the back warehouse. The last time I was there I tried to peer in, but it seemed suspiciously dark.

Distraught by my failure in the journalistic pursuit to expose the Superstore’s (potentially) corrupt monarchy, there is nothing else I can do to enrich literature on grocery shopping than to indulge in an intensive study on the different approaches to hunting and gathering within the confines of the heaping isles.

Panic Buying

Panic buying is a phenomenon that occurs in times of crisis (i.e., exams, pandemics, natural disasters, hangry episodes, etc). The most common symptom presents itself as one walks down the aisle with an arm extended into the shelf, knocking anything and everything into one’s cart while muttering “just in case”. It’s the most effective way to get groceries in terms of quantity, and the least effective way to get groceries in terms of quality. In order to mitigate the negative repercussions of panic buying such as exceeding your weekly budget, I recommend hiding snacks around your living space like a squirrel preparing for winter to periodically nourish yourself as you make budget cuts in the coming weeks as a desperate attempt to financially recover. 

Methodical Lists

It’s part of the human condition to decide once a month that enough is enough, it’s time to get your shit together. A part of that process involves curating and executing the most thought-out grocery list of your life. Every item is meticulously placed onto the list in order of where they are located in the store allowing you to seamlessly move from retrieving one item to the next with minimal steps. You allow yourself to indulge in reading product ingredient lists despite you having no idea what half of them are. You pull up to the cashier on a high, Optimum card strapped and ready for scanning. Nonetheless, the dark reality of produce costing more than french fries forces you to drain your hard earned points. 

Just a Tote

“Just a Tote” shopping trips are characterized by their spontaneous nature. You didn’t expect it to happen, but you’re not mad about it because you understand the value of treating yourself. It tends to occur in one of those artisan grocers. The kind that don’t have carts because nobody could afford to fill one, and because narrow isles maintain a desired level of exclusivity. You decide that the joy strangely shaped noodles and unbruised produce that didn’t come from Florida will bring you is worth the money. However, that’s where you draw the line because you understand that if you were to pick up a pack of fancy crackers, it would be a gateway drug into expensive cheeses and so on. The “Just a Tote” shop is the perfect time to haul home toilet paper because you have an open arm. It is a fact of life that everyone uses the bathroom, but this knowledge does not subside the humiliation that comes from walking home from the store with 24 rolls balanced on your shoulder. The lightened load allows you to swiftly move through the suburbs dodging all human contact.

One of many rude awakenings I had when I moved out of my parents house is that there is always food at home. It was a statement that used to fill me with uncontrollable rage, but now fills me with great comfort. Grocery shopping is my least favourite adulthood chore. I would rather blindly stick my hand into the back of the freezer and grab like a claw machine for something to make for dinner. I have gotten so good at scrounging through the cupboards and creating something from nothing I am considering writing a cookbook. 

Ainsley Jackson

Dalhousie '23

Hello! My name is Ainsley Jackson and I am a fourth-year student at Dalhousie University studying law, justice and society and creative writing.