THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Thursday, February 9, 1995 TAG: 9502080217
SECTION: SUFFOLK SUN PAGE: 06 EDITION: FINAL
TYPE: Editorial
SOURCE: John Pruitt
LENGTH: Medium: 74 lines
Remember the days before grocery store aisles were obstacle courses?
If you've had to maneuver a cart down a store aisle lately, you'll understand.
Why do grocery chains design aisles barely adequate for two carts to squeeze, ever so carefully, between walls of soup and canned vegetables? And, beyond that, to cram every square inch of what would be aisle-end free space with displays?
Stop to find a particular kind of soup - I pick that space because it's got to be the most confusing, what with all those essentially identical labels - and you risk life and limb. As you search out cream of potato, someone creams you from the back, and oncoming traffic becomes a knot of snarling shoppers.
I know food chains want to make use of every square inch - the better to appeal to every round penny in our pockets - but things have gotten out of hand.
I used to view a trip to the grocery store as a mini outing, a way to spend a few quiet moments casually getting something done. Coupons in hand, I'd scout the aisles, marveling at such things as how many choices of laundry detergent the store offered or how attractively the vegetable display was arranged.
Nowadays, I'd as soon stroll along Main Street on a heavy hog-truck day as go into a grocery store that stuffs maximum supplies into minimum space. It is no less a skillful dodge.
Picture it:
Rounding a corner to what you expect to be an aisle along the meat coolers, you encounter a sight like an aerial view of a train derailment. Do you harken to childhood days of bumper cars or retreat? There's nowhere to go!
You hope against hope that the mess clears, but you'd may as well hope that a store employee magically appears and begins dismantling the aisle-blocking displays that cause all this.
Instead, more carts round the corner, and your cart becomes one of those derailed cars.
When you finally spot what looks to be enough space, you park your cart and walk to the meat counter. It's reminiscent of a good fishing night on an Outer Banks pier - all these people hanging along the side of the meat container, this time preparing to angle in hamburger and pork chops.
Feeling encouraged? The worst is yet to come, queueing your way to a cash register, as if it were some kind of goal post that would bring winning points to this disastrous game. Having squeezed your way through the maze, you now find yourself in the way of every other maze-traveler. You move your cart this way, only to be in the way of that shopper; that way, only to block this shopper.
The solution?
First, the obvious one. Let the store manager know how irritating all this stuff is. If he doesn't fix it, go where there's room to shop. It's our money; why give it to someone determined to complicate our lives?
Many store receipts contain phone numbers for consumer comments. Call them; tell them you're tired of dodging cake mixes to get to the pet food or whatever.
Now an answer the grocery chains won't like but certainly would be gratifying to a lot of us: Sell tickets for a wild grocery-cart romp. Every display that gets knocked down, stays down.
Hey, this could be the start of a revolution. No, I'm not advocating violence or vandalism. I am advocating taking control and getting the service we're paying for.
That includes enough unencumbered space to get the shopping done without having to wear safety gear and take a leave of absence.
On to battle, fellow shoppers! MEMO: Comment? Call 446-2494, anytime.
by CNB