Grocery shopping

Work has been unbearably hectic the past week ( a thousand apologies to Charming Calvin ) and it certainly shows since like the oft-mentioned supreme tai tai of the universe, I slept till almost 1 in the afternoon. Definitely a change from leaping out of bed at the call of the muezzins in the early hours of the morning. After being oncall for 24 hours, I rushed home yesterday to run some mundane errands ( paying bills and loans etc ) and by the time I was done with them all, I was dead on my feet and could have gladly fallen unconscious on the closest available flat surface.

Surfaced from my sleep to march down to the kitchen and then realized that my larder as usual was woefully empty and I hastily hied myself to the neighbourhood chain store to stock up. Perhaps in a past life - apart from all that wicked Machiavellian scheming, I must have been quite the dominating housefrau since the very idea of an empty larder actually fills my heart with dread. Somehow my idea of domestic bliss alway revolves around setting up a wholesome homecooked dinner over a bustling hearth - dreams of a 1950s Stepford Housewife, I know. With my hectic erratic schedule, not sure when I shall ever have the time and energy to chop, boil and cook for my dream dinner party but I have always tried my best to keep my stock ready for any such event.


A house is no home unless it contain food and fire for the mind as well as for the body
Shopping for groceries can be quite the eye-opener, and certainly for an enthusiastic people-watcher like me, it can be quite the engrossing pasttime. It's practically a hobby for me to guess what's a person like from the groceries they buy - from the hedonistic football loving bachelor who loads his trolley with mindless booze and endless chips to the dedicated suburban soccer mom with four kids and SUV stocking up on her mountainous weekly supply of groceries - quite enough to feed an army or two during an enemy blockade. Then there's the stick-thin fashionista with her empty basket who jabs her perfectly groomed nails into the pomelos searching for the slightest imperfections while her visibly bored datuk-type friend's gaze start to wander around the merchandise available elsewhere.

Weekends always mark the return of the crazed family shoppers who arrive by the busloads to stock up for the rest of the week. Fortunately I arrived during an unexpected lull in the storm and managed to find a perfect spot. In comparison to the shoppers above, my shopping trolly is generally simple.

1) Rice - not that I'm a crazy rice hoard but every dutiful Asian boy just needs to have some rice in his kitchen jar - and who knows, I just might get the chance to cook it one day.
2) Sugar - since everyone's desperately clamouring for it during this sugar crisis, I need to get my share too.
3) Sausages - More cholesterol heaven!
4) Snacks - my ever wonderful Cheezels. Sure, we don't have Cheetos here for some inexplicable reason but till then, I always have my regular O-Yas ( carbohydrate loeaded orgasms ) to depend on for some cheesy thrills.
5) Instant noodles - could possibly write an ode to this wonderful invention, surely better than sliced bread. Saved my life - and the possible advent of stomach ulcers - more than a few times in the past.
6) Bread - ah, glorious.
7) Peanut butter and jelly - which obviously comes together with the bread. My one respite when everything else is gone.
8) Bananas - unlike Charming Calvin and his odd fetish for grapes, I only enjoy fruits that don't need much preparation before consumption. Instant gratification.

Yeah, literal soul food for the ten year old in me :) Then when I was approaching the checkout counter to pay, I noticed the body in front of me. Big, fit and with large paws - certainly large enough that the basket in hand seemed almost like a mere child's plaything. It could only be one person after all.

After gaining his attention by ramming his butt with my trolley, Big Bicep Barry turned around to thank me profusely for the advice I'd proffered a week back on some mysterious family malady - that's me, fount of medical wisdom. Obviously he doesn't know that I'm a mere medical charlatan, with nary a sensible thought in my head.

During a short break in his packed workday, the man managed to escape the shackles of work and decided to grab some groceries while he was at it. When I peeked into his large basket, I just had to sigh. Surely a basket worth of goodies - a bountiful bouquet of organic vegetables, wafer-thin sugar-free, salt-free, taste-free wheat crackers and numerous mineral water bottles ( which certainly explains his seemingly neverending supply ).

Then I looked into my trolley. Crap. No wonder I'm not losing weight.