Happy Place Number One: The Grocery Store

I was about thirteen when I was busted for shoplifting with my friend Diane Mackie. It was a horrible, embarrassing experience for me. All of the clerks who knew me, came up to the office where we were detained, sharing their own shoplifting stories with us, and expressing disappointment: one telling a story about getting caught long ago for stealing cigars from a liqour store; another reminiscing over the gum she stole, so embarrassed that she took it back and confessed, never to steal again. None of these stories impressed my friend Diane. Diane was a badass, at least that’s what my Mom called her. She never liked Diane, but I thought Diane could do no wrong. She had an awesome room, wore all the cool jeans I wished my Mom would buy me, and seemed to have it all. However, apparently she did not, because I soon found out she liked to steal make-up, and anything else her heart desired, down at the grocery store. Pretty soon, she got me in on the action. I was learning the ropes and getting damn good at stashing things in my own bag. We would hit our neighborhood Safeway, wave to Sandra, one of the checkers, chat with Merle the cute produce guy, and then duck in and out of aisles grabbing candy for friends at school, and cigarettes to smoke in my backyard. Eventually the jig was up, we were snatched by the scruff, and dragged upstairs to the manager's musty office, where we waited for our parents to come and claim us. While I shed tears of shame and pondered what juvenile hall would be like, Diane exhibited a bolder side, hissing at the manager that it was no big deal and he should just let us go. I was shocked and wished she would keep her mouth shut. She had already dragged me far enough into her badass ways. I didn't need her making my situation any worse. Finally, Diane's Mom came to get her, leaving me behind to await my fate. These were the days before stores were open twenty-four hours a day. It was my Mom's boyfriend who insisted the staff stay until he could get there. I never liked him much, but boy was I relieved to see his face that day. After that, I shunned Diane and silently vowed to never set foot into our Safeway again. I would shrink in my seat whenever we would pull into the parking lot. My Mom would ask me, every time, if I'd like to go in with her to shop, but I would respond that I needed to start homework or that I was tired. As soon as she would leave the car, I would tilt the seat all the way back so as not to be spotted by any familiar Safeway employees. I was sure they all hated me. The guilt and shame weighed me down like all those stolen items I had shoved into my purse. It took a long time for me to recover from the embarrassment of that day. About a year later, my Mom received a modest inheritance from a distant relative. She asked me if I'd like to go to the store and fill my own shopping cart with anything I wanted. My mind immediately drifted to the still familiar aisles of Safeway, with pop-tarts, cocoa-puffs, and all the other junk I could cram into a cart. I still recalled where to find everything. I suppose that was the incentive I needed to brave setting foot into the store again. I filled my cart just as Mom told me I could, and proudly marched to the check-out with her, secretly relieved that we were more than able to pay for all our bounty. That experience completely turned things around for me. I no longer feared the grocery store. I liked the people who worked there, the limitless food options, and the familiarity of it all. To this day, the grocery store is my mecca, my place of comfort. Some people visit a spa, take a hike, or go to the gym to unwind. I, on the other hand, hit the grocery store. I have favorites too. Right now, I do most of my shopping at Piedmont Grocery in Oakland. It’s a gourmet and specialty store, with friendly staff, who have all witnessed my life unfold over the years: first me and my daughter shopping alone; then me with a boyfriend here or there,;then pregnant and married to my husband; and now all my family shopping together. My husband gives me grief because all the butchers know me by name and a few are even flirtatious with me. The check-out clerks know my son and daughter, and go out of their way to do a funny magic trick or give a high five. Besides Piedmont Grocery, my current favorite places to shop are Trader Joe's on College Avenue, the Orinda Safeway, Jack London Square Farmer's Market, and our new pride and joy in Oakland, Whole Foods on 27th and Broadway. The Whole Foods in Oakland is magnificant, although I feel like I'm cheating on my friends at Piedmont when I shop there. It is gloriously huge, with their signature perfect mounds of fruits and veggies piled high, and every exotic produce imaginable. They have purple carrots. Now, I'm betting I won't need purple carrots anytime soon, but at least I know where I can get them. Then of course, there is the product and vitamin department, with every natural product imaginable. I have finally realized that I can't take my kids anymore because they get restless when I'm browsing each aisle looking through all the new products. Even when I go on vacation, I make a point to visit the local grocery store. There are so many locally made goodies you can find. For instance, when my husband and I visit Ashland, Oregon, we stop by the co-op to pick up local honey, cheeses, Oregon peaches, and marionberry jam. By now, my husband knows that I love a good grocery store. For our second anniversary, we spent the weekend in Napa. Once we settled into our hotel, the first thing he did was take me to Oakville Grocery Company, where they have countless gourmet foods to choose from. You can find truffle oils, imported pastas and sauces, or Napa mustard. For me, it’s better then going to a souvenir shop. Somehow, when I'm traveling, visiting a grocery store makes me feel more at home. It’s funny, for the year that I banished myself from Safeway, I couldn't imagine getting over the shame of my crime. Nowadays, I realize that grocery shopping has become a form of therapyfor me. It allows me to focus on the mundane task of following my grocery list rather then hashing over the days events. I just grab my cart, wheel through the doors, and begin my usual loop. Starting with the produce and frozen section, and ending with my friends at the butcher counter. What else does a girl need? I'm in my ultimate happy place.