Yours truly is not a shopper in the traditional, fully up-standing retail sense. Department stores dizzy me with their choices, as if I had just emerged from Soviet-era Albania minutes before. The sound of hangers being shucked across poles wearies me in 5 minutes. Fingering fabric swatches, standing dumbfounded in front of paint samples, lamely seeking out the appropriate lampshade, keeping in mind size, shape, color, fabric, price, I lose all brain function and, well.........
But food shopping? I am a whiz, a young Mozart, a whirlwind of decisive opinionated energy in farmers markets, organic shoppes, grocery stores, and the like. I gaze at the tiny lavender eggplant, the crisp rainbow chard, the wormy, pure pale yellow corn, I fondle the peaches and tomatoes, oh so gently, so as not to offend, and imagine meals underway in my head, as I scoot from offering to offering. I know what's in the fridge, the pantry, what's on the counter. I grab quinoa, maple syrup, walnuts, tuna, korma sauce, mozzarella, and toss them into the cart, lingering over the wine choices a bit longer, but all with great pleasure.
Scanning menu choices? I choose well, intuiting what is tastiest, least fluffed up and fiddled with. Eating companions often seem to lament, "Why didn't I order what you did?"
But that other kind of shopping? ( Yes, I can putter quite calmly, strongly and happily through thrift shops, antique malls, yard sales and the like, if I have eaten beforehand...)
Perhaps I am quelled by all things new, by that fresh, full-price aroma. But what is fresher than patty pan squash picked at dawn and sold to me by 7 am?
' Tis a puzzle I am pondering in the idle moments between food choices, tra la.
( Pic of woman shucking those hangers is from the Cotton Incorporated people at http://www.cottoninc.com/CottonCandyPress/CottonCandyPressIssue3/and carries this caption: " The average amount of time women spend shopping for clothes on a monthly basis is 112 minutes.")