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Jacob, Joe, and I went shopping tonight. I’m leaving tomorrow, so I’m only shopping for essentials, brussels and nantuckets.

Jacob and I were in the cookie aisle, bags of cookies all over the floor, with my entire arm buried in the shelf, trying to find something worthy of the Pepperidge Farm name and my cookie hole. Every time that I came back with some disgusting shit with a February expiration date or, god forbid, January, I would throw it on the floor and say something that is only appropriate when earshot consists exclusively of the polite company provided by Jacob. I didn’t expect, at nearly midnight, some assistant manager to go strolling by, do a double take, and ask us to purchase the items in our cart and leave the store immediately.

So I guess I won’t be going to Stop ‘n’ Shop anymore, if this is how their management is going to treat my palate’s sensitivity to freshness.

ACTUAL LIST OF ITEMS IN OUR SHOPPING CART ON THE NIGHT OF NOVEMBER THE ELEVENTH

• Two bags of Pepperidge Farm milano cookies, french vanilla
• Four bags of Pepperidge Farm milano cookies, mint
• Two bags of Pepperidge Farm brussels cookies, mint
• Two bags of Pepperidge Farm nantucket cookies, soft baked
• Eight Marie Callender’s pot pies, frozen (assorted varieties)
• Two one-gallon containers of orange juice, calcium-fortified

The robot checkout lines are, in typical fashion, closed. Joe almost left the store rather than be seen by a human in even the vicinity of this shopping cart of nutritional disaster.

I wish Jacob would learn to draw our web comic, because these kinds of grocery trips inevitably provide excellent material.

Update: do not purchase french vanilla milanos, unless your idea of a delicious snack includes tasting it twice.

Also: wouldn’t “Marie Curie’s pot pies” be a much better product?

Jacob, Joe, and I went shopping tonight. I’m leaving tomorrow, so I’m only shopping for essentials, brussels and nantuckets.

Jacob and I were in the cookie aisle, bags of cookies all over the floor, with my entire arm buried in the shelf, trying to find something worthy of the Pepperidge Farm name and my cookie hole. Every time that I came back with some disgusting shit with a February expiration date or, god forbid, January, I would throw it on the floor and say something that is only appropriate when earshot consists exclusively of the polite company provided by Jacob. I didn’t expect, at nearly midnight, some assistant manager to go strolling by, do a double take, and ask us to purchase the items in our cart and leave the store immediately.

So I guess I won’t be going to Stop ‘n’ Shop anymore, if this is how their management is going to treat my palate’s sensitivity to freshness.

ACTUAL LIST OF ITEMS IN OUR SHOPPING CART ON THE NIGHT OF NOVEMBER THE ELEVENTH

• Two bags of Pepperidge Farm milano cookies, french vanilla
• Four bags of Pepperidge Farm milano cookies, mint
• Two bags of Pepperidge Farm brussels cookies, mint
• Two bags of Pepperidge Farm nantucket cookies, soft baked
• Eight Marie Callender’s pot pies, frozen (assorted varieties)
• Two one-gallon containers of orange juice, calcium-fortified

The robot checkout lines are, in typical fashion, closed. Joe almost left the store rather than be seen by a human in even the vicinity of this shopping cart of nutritional disaster.

I wish Jacob would learn to draw our web comic, because these kinds of grocery trips inevitably provide excellent material.

Update: do not purchase french vanilla milanos, unless your idea of a delicious snack includes tasting it twice.

Also: wouldn’t “Marie Curie’s pot pies” be a much better product?