I don’t know if anyone else notices but there are zombies at the grocery store. They only come out on Tuesday. That is old folks discount day.
I know it is for I also get a discount on Tuesday. On Tuesday the store offers five percent off all purchases except for drugs or beer to anyone 55 or older. Tuesday is my day for picking up the majority of groceries and household necessary’s so I can rake in the savings.
I normally get a little cart and buzz from place-to-place knowing what I want and where it is located. I do this everyday, but on Tuesday the store is filled with zombies.
They are not the blood-splattered kind you see on television or in the movies. These zombies are fairly neatly dressed and sometime accompanied by a younger family member or a nurse. Many of them have blue hair, strange paintings on their faces and smell as if they had taken a bath in the perfume fountain. Zombies they are nonetheless with slow stiff movements, low groans and they are messing with my brain.
These zombies have walkers. Some zombies have these little motorized bumper cars. The zombies push their carts oh so slowly. These zombies have to stop every so often and talk to other zombies. Sometimes a gaggle of zombies will gather blocking all lanes of transportation and revised escape routes have to be used.
A zombie’s job is to slowly move down the food corridors seemingly amazed by the variety of choices. Maybe amazed isn’t the word. Overwhelmed would be better. A zombie must stop and stare at a shelf of beans for hours on end. Some zombies pick up the cans with multiple pairs of glasses. Some zombies move off and then come back as if the decision was too difficult to make the first time.
Zombies also like to ask questions of the store’s personnel. A zombie’s most frequent question is about the location of a certain product. Upon directions, a zombie must then tell the employee in the blue shirt about its medical history. Zombies’ love to stop the store manager referring to prices, manufacture label variations, or even how to make a certain dish. The store manager is pleasant enough to these zombies but is a busy guy so he focuses their attention to one of the grazing areas.
Zombies are grazers. They stop are various stations placed through the store to sample cheeses and meats and whatever else is open and available. This may be the meal for the day. And zombies don’t mind going back for seconds.
You can zombies coming for miles. The zombies come in a steady stream from the apartment building next-door or dumped off at the door by a parade of vehicles. Shoot they even bus them in from far away places.
The next day many of the zombies are gone, but some are still there. Zombies who can’t get it together to make the Tuesday pilgrimage arrive the next day. The react the same but there are fewer of them so it is easier to navigate around them.
Every hour there is a change in staff and a different flow of customers. The noon crowd picks up lunch and then there is a lull. The after work crowd tries to find a quick way to make dinner. The weekend crowd is more interested in adult beverages and junk food. The late night crowd is drowsy and looking for relief and the morning crowd is too eager. Among the usual family folk is a sprinkling of the local gym participants who are all smelly and soaked in sweat.
Does this sound like the crowd to wander through when trying to decide what dead animal or plant to buy to sustain life? It is best not to think about it or you will lose your appetite.
Next Tuesday they will be back and I will be mingling amongst them, trying to pick a can of beans or a container of fruit or a frozen pizza for football day, but I know what will be happening.
Help me! I may not be hungry due to the fact that I am becoming a zombie too.