I carry a shopping list in my back pocket every day and I stop by grocers almost as often. Today the list couldn’t be simpler: a couple onions and split peas. When I get to any register, I like to play the “what’s the total” game, and I’m damn good at it. The cheapo in me looked forward to the fact that today, when my beaming face met the cashier, I would not reach for the billfold for paper or plastic, but to my front pocket, clinking with annoying change.
Yes, this is the time when too many of us make split pea soup. I’ve got a ham bone, with some scraps of meat still clinging to it. I’ve got celery and carrots, of which half will rot if not employed frugally. I’m out of onions though, and split peas are not a pantry item in this house (perhaps I didn’t look hard enough).
Slid in the near-by produce store, threw two large onions in my basket, no need to mess with those annoying produce bags, and … wham … split pea shelf is bare. Expletive symbols floated over my head. Keep moving. No line for the cashier … reach in pocket for clinking coinage … and what? … three dollars for two onions?
Even knowing I was going to have to go to another store, I completed the purchase, sadly prying out some scrip. Still need split peas.
Walking to the car, I realized that I go through this every year. People serve ham at Easter and make split pea soup soon after. There’s a run on split peas at the grocers, that both Ramon, and the retailers seem to forget. After storming out of two other stores empty handed, noticing onion prices even higher than I just paid, I finally found my prized pease at the fourth, way in the way back of the shelf. I grinned at the checkout girl as I tossed her 54¢ jauntily.
If I was as wise as I was last year, I’d have bought two bags, one for next year. Seems I knew that last year, as I found when I got home, that I already had a bag of split peas.
-ramon