I realize there are some things we just can’t get in our small towns.

And I realize it’s sometimes nice to have walls of shampoo, bins of tropical fruit and vats of dipping sauce to choose from.

But, I also realize that if I do the math and gauge the stress, I’m saving myself both money and grief if I’d only shop at home.

Last week we found ourselves in retail paradise in one of Regina’s big box stores. With Christmas ornaments stacked to the roof, a toy isle that had grown into two and a bakery section teaming with fresh and flavourful loaves, it was hard to imagine how things could get any better.

My family quickly parted ways, each heading to the sections of our dreams: the toys for our son, the electronics for my husband and the cheeses for me. Yes, cheese is as exciting to me as a flat screen TV is for most shoppers, but that’s a topic for a whole other column.

Without a hint of suspicion, we carried on our merry way. I entertained myself for a full 15 minutes checking out fabulous cheeses from as far afield as Switzerland, France and Germany. And my son returned from his adventure with a new Lego set in hand.

I’m not sure how I missed it when we walked in (it now dawns on me that there were several clever diversions likely set there for the sole purpose of sideswiping my attention). But when we approached the check-out area, our jaws collectively hit the ground. The waiting lines extended some 10 to 20 carts deep in every single isle. People were jammed liked sardines, trying to maintain their precarious positions in lines that were bumping and shuffling people in all directions.

After a series of ‘excuse me’s’ and ‘I’m sorry’s’ we found a place in line that was so far from the till that the cashier was no longer in sight. Furthermore, we were also now positioned squarely, with our large and unwieldy cart, in the middle of a manic thoroughfare carrying frustrated and combustible shoppers.

As we tried to stay out of the line of fire and inch our way to the till, it occurred to us that there was not a hope in heck of getting out of the store within the hour. But, luckily, we had a plan. We quickly tallied our cart’s contents of rare and exotic items from leeks to cheese to field berries. We came up with the magic number of 20 - we couldn’t believe our luck.

With amazing precision, I battled my way through the crowds to find a basket, my husband followed me through a maze of people and we began dividing our loot into two piles of 10. Hah, now we could speed things up and go into the 10-items-only line - how very clever and how very speedy that would be.

As we waded back in line, aiming for the brightly lit 10-items-only sign, our hearts sank. That line was so staggeringly long, it stretched out beyond the seeing capacity of the human eye. It apparently wound it’s way passed the bin of chocolate bars and snaked deceivingly down the frozen-foods isle.

Our elation hit the ground like a jar of beet pickles smashing to the floor and our frustration skyrocketed to the vaulted roof of the expansive and sprawling store. Our next clever plan, not quite as clever or planned as the first, was to abandon ship completely. We would stroll our cart over to the customer service desk, assuming we could get there through the sea of sardine-stacked people, and we would leave the store - cheese, leeks, Lego and all. My son’s eyes began to tear, I uttered a few not-so-pleasant inner thoughts out loud and my husband’s cheeks turned a not-often-seen shade of red. But as luck would have it, a second 10-items-only till opened just as we were devising our plan of inaction, and a kindly shopper let us in line.

While disaster was averted, I certainly viewed my trip to our local grocery store yesterday with a newfound sense of appreciation. Sure, the cheeses aren’t nearly as foreign, colourful or flavoured and, yes, the selection of toys is limited. But you won’t see me complaining after I managed to get out of there in 15 minutes flat, had a nice and leisurely chat with the cashier and even had time to make a lunch date with a friend as my groceries were bagged and loaded for me.

What’s more, I saved myself the $20 in gas it cost us getting to the city and the $36.01 we spent on lunch. That’s an extra $56.01 I can happily spend in my hometown.

If it means fewer lines, less stress and no plans to abandon cart at customer service, I’m willing to go leek- and Lego-free, thank-you very much.

Christalee welcomes comments
at lcfroese@sasktel.net