The Ultimate Guide to Grocery Store Social Interactions

Navigating the awkwardness of the aisles…

We’ve all been there.

You’re shopping in the grocery store. You’re engrossed in your list or on the hunt for some specific baking ingredient or checking the expiration dates on bagged salad or mindlessly perusing the shelves as you simply escape your family for a few minutes of adult-ing peace.

And then…

Like a bolt of lightning.

You see someone you know.

You are snapped out of your zombie-like shopping trance and thrown into a subtle-yet-exceptionally complicated social situation. You have a choice to make. Do you approach the familiar human, engage, and attempt to create a meaningful relational moment amidst canned vegetables or incontinence-care products? Do you feign ignorance and keep your head down? Or do you panic, abandon your shopping cart, and simply sprint for the exit?

Sometimes, friends, you have no choice to make at all. Why? Because you accidentally made simple eye contact with another human being in public. And we all know that is basically equivalent to a signed legal document - we must now talk. In this situation, the question is no longer whether to engage, but just how much social awkwardness you would like to inject into your grocery store experience.

If you find yourself about to have a social interaction in the grocery store, there are six possible moves available to you, each with its own risks and rewards. Without further delay, here is your Ultimate Guide to Grocery Store Social Interactions:

• The Drive-By

  • This is a tricky move to pull off. You’re making an assumption that the other party will not be offended when you breeze by them instead of engaging about the weather (ooh, cold out there today, eh?), sports (how bout that big game?), or season (getting ready for the holidays?).

    • Accomplished with a firm head-nod acknowledging the others’ existence or a quick greeting that actually says “we’re not about to talk” (hey good to see ya), The Drive-By requires you to look extremely focused and busy without appearing rude or dismissive. It’s a tough balance to strike in terms of perceived friendliness, but comes with the unparalleled reward of uninterrupted shopping and minimal social exposure.

• The Ambulatory Small-Talk

  • This is a move of incredible skill. This is minimal engagement with maximal friendliness, a social tightrope walk if there ever was one. In The Ambulatory Small-Talk, you exchange pleasantries with the other party without ever stopping your cart. This communicates that you care about them but also that you cannot afford to be slowed down on your shopping quest.

    • You know the moving sidewalks at the airport? Your key to accomplishing this move is to pretend you’re on one of those - proceed through the aisle at a steady pace and say something that requires no response other than a “yup” from the other party. Don’t ask about family or the weather - those are wild cards and clear invitations to long-winded updates. Knowing this, your topic of the small talk almost has to be related to the products in the current aisle. While you can note a particular item on the aisle’s relevance to the season (soup is always great in the winter!), your best course of action is to pick a nearby item and say something curmudgeonly about the price (hey - remember when bread didn’t cost as much as rent? *chuckles nervously*). Just remember - keep it moving and never look back.

• The Rerun

  • You know this situation. It’s entirely accidental and extremely dangerous. You run into someone you know. You’re making your way down the aisle. They’re coming up the aisle. You nod or chat or otherwise have some stilted interaction. You extricate yourself from the conversation and, as you continue on your opposite paths, you each breathe a sigh of relief. You did it. You’re moving on having survived another brush with humanity. And then you reach the end of the aisle. You turn around the end-cap to make your way up the next aisle. Only, as you enter the new aisle, you see that the other party has made a parallel move at the opposite end. Oh no! The Rerun! You are on a collision course yet again. Mutually assured destruction.

    • Once you’ve established a shared rhythm with another shopper, you have few options at your disposal. You cannot ignore them. You can’t re-engage at the same level as before - that’s weird. And you can’t level up to a deeper conversation - you already agreed not to go there. Your only recourse is a poor attempt at humor acknowledging the situation.

      • Hey, are you following me? (*both laugh awkwardly)

      • You know, we can’t keep seeing each other like this. (*both grimace inwardly)

      • Hey - not you again! (*both contemplate faking death)

• The Deep Dive

  • As a pastor, I can acknowledge that this particular scenario might be more common for me, but I have heard of it happening to others, so it’s worth unpacking here. You’re picking up some almond milk or squeezing fruits for ripeness. And then you bump into someone you know - definitely more than an acquaintance. You inquire as to how they’re doing and they get that look. Like an overfilled water balloon, you suddenly can see that the pressure has been building within them and you both know it’s about to get real. And right there, in between the bananas and the bagged apples, you’re neck-deep in a story of chronic illness or marital strife or lethal cat fungus. Intending to simply be friendly, you’ve unwittingly entered into The Deep Dive.

    • The challenge of this particular circumstance is in its delicate timing. There is nothing wrong with going all-in - sometimes we all need to vent. The real challenge is really in knowing how to get out of the scenario. Here’s the rule: you get to ask one follow up question (Oh man…when’s the next appointment or How’s she handling it) and then you have to commit to a next-step interaction. While this is mandatory, you do have some flexibility. The offer can take the form of a half-hearted non-vitation (we should get coffee some time), a real future commitment (call me this week so I can hear more), or an immediate spiritual intervention (can I pray for you right here?)… I cannot tell you the right path to choose, only that you must make a choice - and your mileage may vary.

• The Shopping Cart Comparison

  • This is move is one of my favorites and certainly the most likely to create extreme awkwardness - high risk but also the best place for high comedy. You’re looking for some NyQuil or hot dog buns and you bump into someone you know. For whatever reason, you each look in the other one’s cart. You’re now committed to The Shopping Cart Comparison.

    • There is no coming back from this move. Once in, you have to follow through. And here is the risk - you don’t get to look at the other person’s items before you’re involved. It’s a simultaneous process. You are committed to a full, immediate obligation to discussing what you’re buying. As you might imagine, this can go a few different directions.

      • Oh, would you look at those peaches! And apples! Fruit is good, huh? (Awk)

      • Canned tomatoes, eh? Gotta get that lycopene! No, I said “lycopene” - it’s a chemical found in…nevermind. (Awkward)

      • So how are those low-sodium Wheat Thins? Less salty? Because of the sodium being low? No? (Awkwaaaaard)

      • I see you’ve got some Maximum Strength Preparation H in there. That’ll knock ‘em out, right!?! (Passes out on the spot)

• The Obliviator

  • Our final strategy for the social grocery store experience requires we create an entirely new word. The Obliviator. It’s a glorious combination of Oblivious and Terminator.

    • Oblivious + Terminator = Obliviator. (That’s as close as I get to doing math.)

    • The Obliviator is the boldest of all moves and is intended to avoid all social interaction. The required ingredients to pull off The Obliviator are a hat, earbuds, and a look of intense determination. With your hat pulled low and earbuds in, you must make your way through the store at no less than 1.5x speed. You can only look at the shelves and your list, avoiding any and all human eye contact. You cannot check expiration dates - too risky. You cannot browse - you’re on a mission. Keep moving no matter what the cost. If you want to take it to the most extreme place, keep your cell phone in your hand at all times. In the event you run into someone you know, simply give a half smile and, with your free hand, quickly point to your phone and then your earbud while silently mouthing the words “on a call”. Your acquaintance will see that you’re clearly on the phone (or, just as likely, that you’re lying) and you can continue on your shopping adventure unimpeded. The Obliviator is not for the faint of heart.

Above all, stay safe. The grocery store is a dangerous place. Relationshipping is hard. I believe in you. And remember: when all else fails, have a conversation.

- KB