Creature of Habit

By Sean McVeigh

We are all creatures of habit. We feel most comfortable when we’re in a routine — surrounded by the familiar. It’s when we’re forced to step outside that comfort zone that life really puts us to the test. I faced such a challenge this past week: I went to a grocery store.

Now, this was no ordinary grocery store visit. You see, this was not my usual grocery store. I had a doctor’s appointment in Brooklyn, and we were having guests over for dinner that night. I figured, since there was a lovely-looking grocery store right across the street from the office, I’d be proactive — kill two birds with one stone. Bad idea.

I should’ve known from the start that I was in over my skis. I’m not a professional shopper. In Malcolm Gladwell’s “Outliers,” he says it takes 10,000 hours to master a skill. Let’s just say that when it comes to grocery shopping, I haven’t even cracked 5,000. Even on my home turf, I’m often a deer in headlights. I’m certainly not above pulling a “Who Wants to Be a Millionaire” move and phoning my mom to ask which aisle to find something.

“I swear I looked through the whole cheese aisle in dairy — no cotija cheese.”

“What do you mean ‘check up front by the fancy cheeses’?”

“Oh … Bingo.”

Now that’s an expert.

It’s surprising to me that grocery stores are not more intuitive. For the most part, they all follow the same basic structure: the outer edges of the store are the moneymakers — produce, meat, dairy. These are the high-traffic zones. The interior aisles, however, are where capitalism truly shines. That’s where you’ll find the essentials, sold nearly at cost. Unless it’s a unique or specialty item, stores don’t make much — if anything — off that stuff. They have to stock it, and they have to keep prices competitive, because if they don’t, customers will just shop elsewhere.

That abundance — which, don’t get me wrong, is a great thing — makes it tough to find very specific items if you don’t know where to look. I’m sure there’s some method to the madness of why Annie’s granola bars are stocked with the protein and breakfast bars instead of in the granola bar section, but I haven’t cracked that code yet. Most grocery runs always turn into a scavenger hunt for something oddly specific on my list.

New York City grocery stores have something I don’t think you’ll find in many other places. Besides the usual sprawling international section, there’s always a dedicated area that caters to the neighborhood’s largest ethnic population. You might find a full Polish section, a fantastic spread of South American brands, or an entire kosher corner. I’ve always loved that.

Our local grocery store has its pros and cons. It’s not the fanciest, and the parking lot can feel like the Wild West at times, but it’s familiar. After finding only half of what I needed at the Brooklyn store, I aborted the mission, paid for what I had, and drove back to Rockaway to finish the job. I was in and out in ten minutes.

What can I say? I’m a creature of habit.