Vignettes of Poughkeepsie: Stop & Shop, Sunday, January 22, 9:00 a.m.
It’s 9:00 a.m. on a Sunday morning and there are so many wonderful things you could be doing right now. Sipping a large cup of coffee while cozied up to a fire? Sounds delightful. Reading the paper as you munch on some oatmeal? Even better. But unfortunately, a large majority of us don’t get that opportunity because come Sunday morning, our cupboards are empty and food is nowhere in sight. And so it is at 9:00 on a Sunday morning that we find ourselves at the happiest place on earth: Stop & Shop in Hyde Park, N.Y.
The fun begins before you even enter the store. As you cruise around the parking lot trying to find the closest space possible — because the difference of ten feet is obviously life-changing — you see an opening, excitedly turn your blinker on, and pull into the — ARE YOU KIDDING ME? Of course, a shopping cart is planted smack dab in the middle of the space. Suddenly, every Sunday Morning Stop & Shopper is an enemy.
Upon entering the store, you’re immediately greeted with sales, deals, and more sales. If you’re smart, you’ll glide right past them. This is the section for cookies with past expiration dates and chips that have been crushed into hundreds of pieces. There’s a reason they’re located in the front and you will not be a victim of clever marketing.
When you look around the store, you‘ll undoubtedly let out an involuntary chuckle. There couldn’t be a more diverse group of people buzzing around in one place. All stereotypes are suddenly thrown out the door.
There’s the 300-pound man carefully selecting a bag of grapes, and you have to wonder if he uses them merely as a kitchen decoration.
Then there’s the 100-pound housewife dressed in head-to-toe fitness gear lugging around a basket full of Ding Dongs, Ho Hos, and Twinkies.
Of course we can’t forget the five-year-old who begs her mom for broccoli. Are you feeling okay?
Or the macho man who appears to only eat carrots and lettuce. You want some croutons with that?
If you look around Stop & Shop — past the occasionally rotting potatoes and asparagus that’s dryer than the Sahara — you’ll see mothers and daughters and sisters and brothers. You’ll see teachers and you’ll see policemen; senior citizens and kids. You’ll see Poughkeepsie.
At the checkout line, you’ll almost break a smile. You know what? Those Sunday Morning Stop & Shoppers aren’t too bad after all. But then the sound of the cashier’s voice will jolt you back to reality.
“I’m sorry, ma’am,” she tells the woman in front of you, “but this coupon only works on the 20 oz. bag of chips.”
After a solid five minutes of back-and-forth in which no one seems to care about your existence, the old woman realizes she accidentally bought the sixteen-ounce bag.
“Oh!” she exclaims. “Okay, I’ll be right back.”
Without a care in the world she waddles off to the land of snacks and you look at your watch knowing you’ll be here for another 20 minutes.
