When we arrived in New York 3 months after our wedding , we landed in a little beach town called Long Beach in Long Island. I wasn't ready for urban life so this was where we lived for a handful of months, my first time living outside of Arizona.
I will never forget that first grocery store shopping experience. As I strolled down the aisles with my cart, I saw that few labels were familiar. I must have stood staring at the milk for 30 minutes. Who knew Shamrock wasn't a national milk brand? And how would I decide which of these new brands was good, safe, best? It was then I realized how much I relied on a lifetime of my mother's choices and how scary it was to not have them available. Or to know how she knew which milk was best, or how to grocery shop at all.
Needless to say, it was a long shopping trip of taking chances on most items. Except the items that left me no choice. How can there only be two salsas to choose from? I also realized I was living in a new demographic. Mexican food items were scarce while Italian and Kosher foods were overly stocked. As silly as it sounds, that grocery trip was the beginning of a long lesson of change and adjustment for me in a lot of ways. It was the first true indication to me things were really going to be a lot different in this new place.
I got to the check-out and noticed patrons bagging their own groceries. My palms got sweaty. Why was this happening? Were they being rude for not waiting for the cashier or bag boy to assist? What do I do when it's my turn? I don't know how to bag groceries! The cashier began to scan items for the person in front of me while the previous shopper frantically bagged his items. I was so confused.
I leaned in and casually asked the woman getting her wallet from her purse if we are supposed to bag our own groceries. She barely made eye contact and asked "What? Are you from Flahrida?"
I explained Arizona and she proceeded to say they normally don't have people available to bag groceries and no one wants to wait around for the cashier to help so they just start doing it themselves. It moves the line along faster. Basically, this was the norm.
Not only did they not have normal milk, I had to figure out how to put all this stuff into bags without crushing my bread and keeping the cold food together before the next person's food began to fly into my pile of goods. Sounds like common sense, which it is, but figuring it out on the spot when you aren't expecting it was like being on Candid Camera. I was frustrated and angry. I decided it was all wrong, hated it, wanted to go back to my real home and have a tall glass of milk from that Shamrock Farm. But the next time I went, I knew what to expect and I was more prepared.
So now when I go to the store and each check-out line is backed with smiling teenagers ready and waiting to bag my groceries AND ask if I need help out to my car, I have a strange sense of uneasiness. It's the same feeling when I get a pedicure, I really am able to do it on my own! I don't need such a service, it's not necessary and makes me feel a little embarrassed. What used to feel like a right I should demand now appears to be so frivolous.
