Groceries II

Another grocery store trip. Not the first since the other one I wrote about. I’ve been to the grocery store more than twice in the last six months. I’ve just been up to other things too. Not just grocery stores. I do things. I do things other than just grocery shop. I went to a different grocery store this time. Because I moved. There. That’s something I did other than grocery shop. I also got a new job. That’s another thing that isn’t grocery shopping. So there. Grocery stores aren’t my life.

I went to the Food Pavillion. It’s independent, and small. It’s in a small town. I thought it was the only one but there’s actually another in another small town about 50 miles north in another county. I don’t know how that worked out. They have a website where you can print out their weekly coupon books. It will also reveal to you that there is a second location, in case you didn’t already know. You’ll find all this information if you ever google it to make sure you don’t need to capitalize the “the” part of their name in the blog post you’re going to write about it because the “the” isn’t actually a part of its name. It’s technically just called Food Pavillion. But I don’t like that so I added the “the”.

I’m perpetually broke right now because I’m living above my means. I’m in a studio apartment too close to every-day amenities. There are restaurants and shops within walkable range, and so I must suffer not being able to afford them. This is the trade and these are the conditions we all agreed to at some point, or so I have to assume. It makes shopping for groceries more fun, not being able to really afford them. I convince myself that challenging means fun. I got a small bag of shredded cheese, mexican blend. Classic. I didn’t get a block because I don’t have a cheese grater and the baked potato it will adorn will not be served to anyone I care about. Pre-shredded cheese has an anticoagulant coating that makes it difficult to melt. I also got green onions. And some spices. They were out of cumin. I’m taking a risk on some “taco seasoning” that I am afraid to try because the ingredients are just listed as “spices”. I wouldn’t have to have done this if they just had cumin and chili powder. Now I just have to pray this taco seasoning contains cumin. I also got some jalapeno cheddar bagels. A vice of mine. Total came to $29. I wanted to get some frozen chicken breasts but they only had the Tyson strips with the painted-on grillmarks. I am slowly assembling the ingredients necessary for some shitty corn tortilla tacos. I’ve had the tortillas for a month. I have a white onion. I need some cilantro and chicken. And a decent salsa. It’ll be a multi-month assembly process by the time I acquire all ingredients neccessary for this incredibly simple dinner.

Food Pavillion is charming. Kinda cozy. Half of the refrigerators are waist-high chests with glass doors that open from the top. The lights flicker. Grocery stores usually feel like places you buy food because that’s what they are. Food Pavillion feels like a place where food is sold. I wrote that because it sounds cool but I don’t know if it means anything. The floor is a little dirty and the meat is kinda hastily wrapped. There aren’t any self-checkout lanes. I dunno, I like it.

Anyway I had five of the bagels for dinner. And a diet coke. It just kinda happened. Oh also some tinned mackerel. I’m kind of like a large rat. I’d like to get a cat soon but I know that means I will have to share my tinned fish with them. These tiny artisanal tins of mackerel are $8 a pop and if the little guy doesn’t come with pockets to help me steal them I don’t see why they should be entitled to my hard earned fish. If Fred Meyer doesn’t want me to put the fish in my pocket then he needs to sell tins of fish larger than my iPhone. And if I get arrested for having fish in my pocket I think we have much bigger problems. Would be kind of cool to go to jail for stealing fish though. Like a maritime Robin Hood except with zero noble motivation or intent to redistribute my stolen fish to the masses. So kind of like just a regular thief. Plus I’m not that good at archery. I’m okay at it. It’s been a while. I’m probably not that good anymore.

I’m listening to Dire Straits and working on my sixth bagel. No cream cheese or anything. Straight bayg. Pounded like a donut. Something like 1600-1800 calories of pure bagel. Absolutely brutal. I’ll save the baked potato for tomorrow.