It is that time of the week again.
I make quick stock of what I need, estimate the total potential size of all the new contents and choose the bag that best fits all, slung it over my shoulder and buzz out.
And from there the choice starts.
Where to? Rewe has a better interior with lighting that makes one feel like one is in a classy establishment. The consumables are of better quality, though that does come at a price. Which is not as much of an issue at Kaufland, which is bigger and more spacious and seemingly cheaper. Aldi, well is Aldi. It is where you go when you do not want to see many humans.
The moment I enter, my mind switches off from everything else. Without me knowing, it scans the plethora of things before me. To call them "things" is but a banal way to describe what is in front of my eyes. The colors, the shapes, the smells, the textures, all screaming out and saying,
"Look at me"
"Feel me"
"Buy me"
I know what is it I need and I know where to find them. And still every time, there is a minor celebration of achievement every time I find it and it comes at a price that I was expecting. The lower the price, the greater the celebration. Navigating the aisles and squeezing between other trolleys and others all lost in the ecstasy of consumption, I am lost in the endless thoughts.
"1 kilogram of carrots at €1.5 translates to some healthy (and cheap) carrot soup that I had not planned to make that week. There you are Aubergines. Alas why are you still €2.5 per piece, for you have neither the taste nor the nutrition (Amma did say they are bad for the eyes). How about some tomatoes? They do add some flavour to the pasta. Though if I get them, that means I need to get the pasta, the sauce and the meat, in which case I might break the budget. Unless of course, I give up on the carrot soup, which is not that hard when the replacement is bacon in pasta. Ok, now where was the carrots again so I can put this back?"
Assuming I had followed the script, stuck to buying what I knew I needed, I would have been out of there in 30 minutes. But I wander around there for another hour more, enjoying every moment I spent there scanning, choosing, feeling, reading, calculating, putting back, reconsidering, celebrating, regretting, going back, going forward, salivating, debating, deliberating. In the temple of consumption, I am a devout follower, unconsciously warped in a world where I can lay my hands on anything and know that it can be mine. It is where I can go with a plan and the ensuing events almost always follow that plan and when it doesn't, it always opens up another path before me. It is where I feel like I have control, though it might also be where I have none, where I am a victim to my senses and my base human tendency to hoard.
And that is why, every time of that week, I relish the moment I pick up the bag, slung it over my shoulder and head out again.
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