Lost in a Supermarket

(Lost again at trivia tonight but the categories were stacked against us this time around. I’m not too upset that I wasn’t able to name Sesame Street characters. Well, other than I missed Sherlock Hemlock, I definitely should have known that one. But I did know what LL Cool J stood for so I still have some street cred.)

The topic of dating and meeting people has been a point of interest recently at the Battling the Current summer compound (Motto: we’d have a view of the ocean if we just built a tall enough building). Thanks to Super Dave, I am now aware of a Chicago supermarket promotion that is once again on that border between sheer brilliance and the dumbest idea ever.

Here’s the concept. It’s a Friday night and you’re alone but you want to meet people. But the bar scene isn’t working out for you and for some reason the idea of just hanging out at a bar and drinking isn’t palpable. (I figure some people must think that way, the same way I figure that some people believe that the world is flat and that evolution doesn’t exist.) So instead of a bar, how about at ten in the evening on a Friday you go to a grocery store. There you will be given a number and a nametag and you can shop and send messages to other shoppers, which will be posted on video boards throughout the store.

Ok, let’s examine this one in detail.

1) First off, Friday night is the worst night to hold this thing. By going you are admitting that this is your best option for a late night on a Friday. Now I’ll admit that I do go to a bar to play trivia on a Friday but the game starts at seven so it seems a little better. I still think that if you do this on a Wednesday or a Thursday it might actually get some takers.

2) If you’re going to make me wear a number I am going to go all out and act like it is my number from when I ran a marathon. Break out the headband, the running gear, be sweating like mad, run past the free samples and grab them like it’s a water station and if anyone asks just say that you need band-aids because your nipples are chafing. Remember, life is nothing if not a platform for improv comedy.

3) Sadly, you know that you couldn’t turn this into your normal shopping trip. I’d be forced to buy all of this health food and stuff that I would never eat, like fruits or vegetables. Imagine wandering around with a cart filled with about a dozen microwave dinners and twelve different varieties of Hot Pockets. And a couple of those monster size bags of Doritos and a case of Mr. Pibb. Actually, that would be pretty awesome.

4) Finally, the message board would be the basis of some of the best one liners imaginable. Just think of the possibilities that you could post like “Trust me, you should really pick up the low fat ice cream” or “Nice melons” or “You like food? I like food! Wanna make out?” I swear, it would be like the best Beavis and Butthead episode ever.

Hey, people have had weirder first meetings. Though I would rather not have to tell my grandkids that I met their grandmother at the dairy case.