We shall not speak of this again

Going grocery shopping isn't fun. The Wife and I sometimes go together. But not often.

Not that we don't enjoy going or doing things together. No, that's not it.

It's that we're completely different kind of shoppers.

And not that I think my way of shopping is better than her way of shopping. But, I shop my way. It's how I am.

Sometimes, I do a very good job of shopping.

Then, sometimes, I do really stupid things.

Like yesterday.

We went to Publix. And she didn't like it. Oh, she was driving, and in no way whatsoever insisted that we go to Publix. We were near there, after having eaten at the Cracker Barrel. And, she started heading to the big Wal-mart out at Hooterville (it's actually called "Columbus Park Crossing," but since the first thing built during the recent building boom in that area was a Hooters, we gave it that name). However, she decided to just pull into the Publix instead.

We started shopping, found, once again, that our shopping styles don't mesh, and started getting things we thought we wanted. Sort of shopping separately, yet sharing a shopping cart.

I will buy 2-liter drinks; she'll buy the 12-pack of 12-ounce cans. I picked up a 2-liter of Publix cola. And, hanging nearby, was some dispenser thingy. You removed the cap off the 2-liter, put this thingy in it's place, and you didn't have to open the 2-liter bottle again. No more "swoosh" as the air escapes. It'd keep the drink from going flat as soon.

At least, that's what it said. Sounded good to me. So, into the shopping cart it went.

Notice what I didn't say. I said what all I read on the label. But I said nothing about the price. Because I didn't read the price.

The Wife did. After we got home.

"You paid $6.99 for that coke nozzle?!?"

I look at her. "What?"

"$6.99?! You paid $6.99 for that nozzle?"

I think quickly. No, I don't remember what it cost. Maybe I didn't look at the price. Check that; I'm sure I didn't look at the price.

"I don't know."

"That what it says here!"

"Well, I swiped my card. But I finished loading the cart. You signed the receipt. So, you paid for it."

She was not amused.

Anyway, later, I opened the 2-liter bottle, followed the instructions, and put the nozzle on the bottle.

Everything works just great.

Except that it leaks. Both air and cola.

"So, how'd that work out for ya?" she asked.

"You're being mean to me," I told her.

She laughed.

And every time I got more drink out of the 2-liter, I could feel her stare. I'd turn around and she'd be looking at me. And laughing.

I'd had enough. "We shall not speak of this again!"

And we haven't.

But she has. She has the most wonderful laugh.

Green grocer

The Wife and I went grocery shopping the other day.

She likes to shop at Wal-Mart.

I'm more of a Winn-Dixie guy.

So, naturally, we ended up at Publix.

Hadn't been to Publix in a while. So, some things were different.

Like the hippie food.

Actually, I knew they had a hippie food section. It's easy to spot. It's the section where college kids that dress like Linda Perry (during her 4 Non Blondes days) shop.

Only, it's expanding.

I found something called "Green Cuisine" in the frozen food section. And here's what Contessa, the company that made these dishes, says about it:

In 2007, Contessa opened the first environmentally responsible, LEED-certified frozen-food manufacturing plant in the world. Located in Los Angeles, our new plant uses advanced design and technology to significantly reduce Contessa's environmental impact. It uses half the energy and reduces CO2 emissions by 50% compared to a conventional plant built today.

The facility, its processes and the products manufactured there are known as "Green Cuisine.

Now, I saw all that stuff, and thought, "Hmm. I can pay more and feel good about eating frozen food when I drive my gasoline-burning Chevrolet several miles on an asphalt-covered road to a major grocery chain."

The thing is, some will actually think that and totally miss the irony.

I guess it's called "green" for more than one reason.