I've spent a good portion of today psyching myself to deal with finding a place in the grocery store/gasoline station parking lot, after putting in a full, non-stop, barf-o-rama shift at the hospital. Now, I get to deal with the damn carts with the one wheel that really doesn't touch the ground, but merely spins around in circles, when it's not jammed up with a plastic bag from the produce section, after I could unjam it from the three (3) carts that are jammed up together by some sadistic cart fetcher who no doubt, jammed the carts together by running into the store wall with the three carts together...

I can hardly wait to watch the grubby guy, with the filthy fingers protruding through the cut off gloves, picking at the grape display and popping one or two grapes from each bunch into his mouth, then try to find the bunch that isn't missing any grapes to bring home. I'm looking forward to trying to get around the family of five, who insist on blocking two aisles and the only entrance to the bread section because they are arguing about whether buy Kix cereal, or a 12-pack of beer. I'm looking forward to watching the youngest of the five crawl on the floor around the arguing brood and into the bread section and systematically punching every loaf of bread at least 3 shelves high - that's why I've always selected my bread from shelves at least  4+ shelves high....

I'm looking forward to having every single shelver ask me up and down 5 aisles, "How are you today? Do you need any help? Did you find everything you're looking for?"... only to disappear the second I can't find the black-eyed peas (are they in the bean section? the peas section? the canned vegetable section? the corn section?)  I'm waiting to find that the only sizes of a product I need 8 ounces of, only comes in the 4 ounce-it-costs-eight-times-as-much-as-the-8 ounce can, or the jumbo-20-ounce-feed-your-family-of-ten-oh-yeah- it-expires-immediately-   after-opening size.

I hope that I can fuss in the cleaning aisle to not be able to find the size vacuum cleaner bags I need, but find 50 bags for the vacuum cleaner I just traded up and don't have anymore.

I want screaming babies, running toddlers, older and younger crabby people, who consider their carts weapons of torture especially when they jam their cart into the back of my legs, my ankles my butt, my hips...

Out of 15 working registers, I want only 2 regular lanes and the 10 items or less lane open. Period. I love to socialize in line with people who are as exhausted as I am, or if you read "Grocery Shopping" you read about some of the other fascinating people I've been able to avoid for a year. I want to have the one lane I'm in, have a brand new checker - who does not know the difference between lettuce and cabbage, or yams and ginger root, and doesn't know how to clear out an over-ring for an item after he accidentally punched in $10.09 pound, instead of $1.09 - and has to wait for a manager who is on a break and has the only override key.

I want to have the bagger ask me 15 times if I want help outside with my groceries (I've answered, "no, thank you") while not noticing that the ONE loaf of bread the kid in the second paragraph DIDN'T punch has been thrown to the bottom of the bag - as he drops the cabbage and the economy size can of "way more than I need" on top of it.

I can't wait to finally unload the groceries into the car, realizing that "making my loads easier" meant putting one item into one plastic bag. Period. Well except for the now crushed bread, cabbage and 20 ounce of something.... I can't wait to have the bags sliding over one another until I have to make a sudden stop, then have every one of the bags not only empty, but then have the contents go under the car seats.

I want to re-bag the groceries the way I want them bagged, after I pull up in front of the house, then make 20 trips from the car to the front door to the car to front door (you get the idea). I then have to put up a dam in front of the doorway, so that The Boy won't run out into the dark to "help" me bring the bags in (by chomping a hole into the bottom of the wildbird seed bag - so that it leaves a trail from the doorway into the kitchen -- so I can find my way out into the street, and not get lost...

I can hardly wait to have Nick come in to see what I've foraged, and then state, "why is the bread all mashed up?"

Ah, yes, the joys of internet, convenience, annoyance-free shopping.... I gave it my best shot - I told my family and friends, and any stranger who would listen... "try it, you'll like it!".... but to no avail. Soon I'll be back to shopping with the rest of you, but it was a great, convenient ride, while it lasted.

Come on you financial moguls with an itchin' for something successful - try starting up another web-based shopping service, but this time, not faster than you can [safely, sturdily] grow.... Please hurry, my patience won't last forever...

July 14, 2001 [update]:   I've been  whimpering throughout the week about this terrible nightmare of the closure of Webvan.  I've reflected on the fact that there are only two bananas left from the last order we received from our last Webvan order. I've reflected that there are only a few packages left of the choice cuts of meat that we purchased from Webvan, left in the freezer. We watched a DVD last night, "Bless the Child", also an impulse purchase from Webvan.

Today I was forced to go back into the Grocery Store, because my Webvan order was NOT delivered last night like it had been delivered every Friday for the past year.  The only cart I could find that wasn't jammed up into another cart or full of garbage, had the remnants of a birthday cake that had spilled in the kiddy/purse seat.  I, of course, didn't notice the smashed cake until after I placed my purse in the seat while I pushed the cart back and forth trying to make sure that all of the wheels moved (like wheels, not like tops).  Inside the store,   the fresh fruit looked overripe (unlike our last two Webvan bananas), so I settled for prepared melon salads, instead.  Safeway didn't have celery seed of any kind, they didn't have my AA vacuum cleaner bags, nor did they have the paper towels that you could pull off the size you really need.  They only had two (2) registers open.   I put a "get well" greeting card on the belt, realizing a nanosecond later that I put the envelope in a puddle of "something".  The cashier greeted me as I began unloading my cart, then she greeted me again when I ran my card through the scanner.  Then I was greeted by the bagger who promptly crushed my bread and asked me, not once, not twice, but FIVE times if I needed help to my car.    I shlepped the stuff into the front and back seats of my car, and panicked that my ice-cream would melt before I could get home.

Nick  helped me bring the groceries into the house and we reminisced about the "olden days" when our Webvan  drivers would come into the kitchen and notice our ever-continuing home remodel work.  Nick opened up the fruit salad and took a big piece of watermelon into his mouth.  Yep. Rancid. All of the fruit salad was rancid with a "better if used by July 15" sticker clearly displayed.  Yep. Tsk. Aaaaaaaaaah. Webvan. A day late and a few dollars too short.