Sensory Overload in Aisle Nine

 

Carolyn J. Rose

 

While grocery shopping recently I found an aisle blocked by an elderly man. Hunched over his empty basket, he studied a slip of paper with the intense concentration that cracked the Enigma Code. I waited. He remained motionless. I executed a U-turn for the chip aisle.

 20 minutes later I saw him again. He was on the move, but still squinting at his list. In his basket was a single can of beans.

 The next day, I wondered if he was still roaming the aisles. A day later I imagined him as a modern-day version of Charlie, the doomed Boston MTA commuter immortalized in a Kingston Trio song.

 While you’re humming that song about the man who never returned, or perhaps finding it on YouTube, I’ll get to the first point of this essay. There are a lot of older men—and probably women as well—who could use help navigating supermarket aisles. Maybe their partners abruptly handed off shopping duties, leaving them struggling to decipher handwriting, locate items, and bring home the correct brand and size. Maybe divorce, or even death, cast them adrift in a sea of selections. Struck dumb by the vast number of possibilities, vision blurs, steps falter, senses overload. They become paralyzed with indecision.

 (But wait. Let’s go back to the MTA for a moment. Has anyone else wondered why Charlie’s wife managed to hand him a sandwich but not the coins for the exit fee? Was this shoddy thinking, or was their marriage on the rocks?)

 Supermarket paralysis, a friend insists, affects men more than women. Men, he claims, are genetically programmed to hunt large game and women to gather nuts and berries. Women therefore excel at distinguishing small details and remembering where to find soup or celery. Or, perhaps women are more familiar with the terrain and more accustomed to coping with varying layouts and constant tides of new products and packaging.

 (But let’s return to the MTA for another moment. If Charlie couldn’t get off the train to get to work and earn money, how did his wife pay for sandwich makings?)

 Now to my second point: I see an opportunity for supermarkets to tap the sensory-overload market by establishing special shopping hours. Employees might supply maps or crash courses in the use of shopping apps. Stores might provide a place for shoppers to meet, compare lists, share tips, and even strike up friendships.

(One more return to the MTA and that sandwich. Was it the same every day? A pickle on the side? Chips? A can of cola?)

 

Okay, too much overthinking. Perhaps that man in the supermarket wasn’t paralyzed with indecision. Perhaps he was simply lingering to enjoy time away from home.

 And maybe that was Charlie’s intention. After all, he put only 10 cents in his pocket. Not enough for the exit fee. And certainly not enough for a return ticket.

Think about it.

While you're pondering, you can paste the link below into your browser if you're in the market to make MTA by the Kingston Trio your next earworm. 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S7Jw_v3F_Q0