You, Too, Can Do the ’83 Madonna

Madonna
The 80s were a confusing time.

Today I went to work and I then to the grocery store. Take your pick.

Let’s do the grocery!

I have a friend that loves to grocery shop. He wheels down each aisle slowly looking for new food. As such he’s always coming home to his family with new flavors of chips, candy, or pre-cooked, marinated meat. When you walk past the frozen “what’s new” section, he’s the one buying that four pack of buffalo burgers drenched in buffalo sauce.

When I go to the supermarket I try to visit as few aisles as possible. I want to leave as soon as I arrive. What fuels the breakneck speed to which I zip around the aisles is the excitement of being home and tearing into the turtle cookies I bought at the bakery. Today I picked up said cookies and actually examined then as if to suggest, “I’m not sure you’re good enough for me yet. Wait, you were made fresh this afternoon? Yes, this meets my standard of freshness. I will, after much deliberation, place you in the cart.” The truth is there was a pretty girl in the department and I wanted her to think I reluctantly put the box of twelve cookies in my cart. “I don’t normally eat stuff like this!” I wanted to convey.

Here’s a way to shave five minutes of your shopping. You know how there’s a hundred types of bread flavors and brands? I’m someone that brings his lunch to work, a turkey sandwich, every single day of the year. I know bread.

All sandwich bread is exactly the same.

I’ve tried them all. From the double-fiber to the seventy-four grain with flax-seed oil – it’s all the same crap. Just look for one on sale that has the word “multigrain” in it. It all tastes the same. Even if your kids like  Pepperidge  Farm Cracked Honey Wheat, buy ’em the “Double Fiber for Seniors” loaf. They won’t even notice they’re pooping more.

I had to go to the store because when I arrived home tonight I had no food in the refrigerator. I knew it was going to be an expensive trip.

Instead of shopping every week I buy twenty things of Greek yogurt at a time. I’m the dude who picks up three boxes of cereal and five packs of frozen chicken breasts. I don’t want to go back to the grocery for two to three weeks. I’m a very busy man, what with my nap schedule and all.

So, when I hit that checkout line, my cart is full and ready to hit the disco. Tonight was no exception. As the guy rang up the order I found myself more proud the higher the total climbed. What would the tally be? $100? Ha – I crossed that back when he was doing a price check on Mike and Ike bags. Yep, they come in bags now.

When the dust settled and the senior bagging the groceries looked like she was going to have a coronary working on my order, the damaged leveled $148. I wanted to proudly announce to the other shoppers, “Wow – look at how casually I scanned my credit card without any emotion for the cost of my food. I must be super-rich!” I am not super-rich and inside I was thinking, “Holy shit! I just blew $150!” But to let someone see that is way too vulnerable.

I have one final bit of advice for those of you who are single or have dickheads for family that won’t help you bring in the groceries. I can’t believe that I hardly ever see anyone do this maneuver which I call the ’83 Madonna. Living on the fourth floor of a walkup condo building means I have to be tactical on my shopping. I don’t buy more than one twelve pack of Fresca because it wouldn’t be easy to carry up the steps along with the other groceries.

Tonight I brought seventeen bags of groceries and a twelve pack of Diet Sierra Kiwi-Strawberry up in one trip. Maybe my all-time greatest food-carry feat. The entire $148 of groceries swung from my body and then up four flights. Here’s how to do it. First, go plastic. Paper is for weirdos. It’s just not practical. I’m not sure which is better for the environment. I guess you can use your own bags from home, but why bother when you can get seventeen free bags from Piggly Wiggly? Free bags!

The manuever is simple. You load each plastic bag onto your  forearm  pushing it up with your other hand, like you’re wearing multiple bracelets. You’ll be amazed how you can carry six or more bags from wrist to elbow. Plus, it leaves your hand free for the box of Mr Pibb Cherry. You’ll look like a mental patient but you’ll get it all in one trip. If you have a long way to go from car to house (like I do) you must be comfortable once inside the apartment to drop everything on the floor. You’re going to need to lean against the wall catching your breath. Heck, you just carried up seventy-eight pounds of groceries.

Enjoy your food. You earned it  and burned two hundred calories in the process. Rip into that giant Mr. Goodbar you hide from the rest of the family.

Madonna
The 80s were a confusing time.

17 thoughts on “You, Too, Can Do the ’83 Madonna”

  1. AngusMcMahan says:

    Huge typo in the first line of your post. If you can’t be compelled to read your stories twice, why should I be compelled to read them even once?

    1. D.J. Paris says:

      AngusMcMahan  Nobody gets upset more than you at my typos – I’m glad to have someone to remind me of my poor editing. Ha.

  2. Katjaneway says:

    Lol I know that maneuver, I do it too.  Considering  you bought so much “crap” you must not have bought a lot of regular food for it to only come to $150 lol I’ve spent that much at Costco and barely bought anything! And I’m pretty sure my husband and I  combined  make less than you do lol. The food must be cheap where you live. But I’ve seen people ring up $150+ of groceries before. Then again, I live in a spritzy area.

    1. D.J. Paris says:

      Katjaneway  Yes, but at Costco you have to buy 7lbs of spinach – that’s the smallest amount allowed.

  3. lcarilo says:

    My three kids have been the greatest grocery cart fillers, conveyor belt placers, vehicle back lift coordinators, grocery bag – paper or plastic – carry-inners, fridge & cabinet item sorters/placers… and they wait for me to ask if they’d like a treat from checkout stand display.  If I grocery shop on my own now, I go into a slight panic… go with husband and have to abandon all reasoning and scream my head off – on the inside.

    1. D.J. Paris says:

      lcarilo  I’m glad your kids have learned how to serve their parents. It’s the best thing about having the little shits!

  4. Dei Starr says:

    As always, you make me chuckle.  
    We do groceries the same way!  Including the carrying!

    1. D.J. Paris says:

      Dei Starr  Thanks Dei! We’re the same!

  5. NestedBlog says:

    Too funny. Stopping over from twitter, where we are apparently “friends.” Clearly I don’t “do” twitter well. Anyways, hysterical post – thanks for the laughs. My husband and I live on the seventh floor of an apartment building with spotty elevators and we are militantly competitive about getting the groceries up in one trip. I, being the go-getter in the marriage, generally carry the most. Because he’s kind of an ass like that when groceries are involved. Just saying.  
    If you’re interested, I run the humor blog Nested, found here: http://www.nested1.blogspot.com (Yea, yea, I know I need to stop being a cheap-ass and shell out the $10/month for my own domain name. Blah blah.)

    1. D.J. Paris says:

      NestedBlog  Your husband is right not to help you. He does enough, you know?

  6. NorellLestinaShute says:

    Great story – I remember the days of carrying bag after bag of groceries up to our 3rd floor apartment. Even now that we live in a house, we have to walk through the entire house to get from car to kitchen. Just one question, what exactly does a “mental patient” look like? I know your posts are meant to be fun and you don’t have problems making fun of anyone – including yourself. Just wondering what your definition of the appearance of a mental patient is.   Do you consider yourself a mental patient since you see a therapist?

    1. D.J. Paris says:

      NorellLestinaShute  If you walked around Uptown here in Chicago you would see a ton of mental patients. Lots of slow walking, cigarettes dangling from lips, and vacant stares into the sky. Also they always have at least one plastic bag with them. It’s a whole thing.

  7. John Terry says:

    There are times I am jealous of my friends who live in awesome city lofts and doorman buildings. Except when I come home with an assload of groceries (spell check doesn’t like “assload” – however, I know it is an acceptable unit of measure). That’s when I revel in my oversized, two-car suburban garage, with the short walk through the laundry room to the kitchen.And in other news, I’m now craving Fresca.

    1. D.J. Paris says:

      John Terry  Plus, your bum situation is most likely better. But maybe you’re into bums. I’m not.

  8. nulsenjb says:

    There have been three Sundays since this was posted, which means I’ve been grocery shopping three times since reading it. It also means that thrice, I’ve stood in front of the self-service bread slicer at Kroger thinking to myself, “I really need to suggest this to DJ. He’s totally missing out on good bread.” I actually list it like that on my shopping app. “Good bread.” My wife prefers the tasteless double-fiber flax multi-grain cardboard crap, which I simply list as “bread,” and I just grab something brown and on sale for her. You dedicated an entire post about how your dad convinced you to splurge on decent deli turkey, and I think it’s time you properly compliment your meat with quality bread. Plus, operating the slicer and bagging it yourself is intrinsically rewarding.

    1. D.J. Paris says:

      nulsenjb  A self-slicer? I’m going to call shenanigans on this. But if it is true, I MUST USE IT. Thanks for the tip, although I’m certain the crappy Jewel I go to does not contain said technology.

  9. deals destination looking says:

    Really love the way you layed it all down. So flawless and brief. One does not see this often these days. You are definitely the best blogger ever. Keep them awesome articles coming. Thanks a million for such priceless inspirations.

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