Thursday, June 08, 2006

Only here...

Mallory and I rarely use our car. Really, there isn't much use for it once we are in the city. There's the occasional Wal-Mart run or grocery shopping, but usually it just remains parked on the street.

This week, Drew has the car in NC because of a family situation. Meanwhile, Mal and I have been content despite its absence. Except for Tuesday.

Our kitchen cabinets, though stocked with enough Ramen noodles to feed a small tribe, were looking a little scarce in terms of other necessities. Mainly, bottled water and other such importances like cookies, juice, and spinbrushes. Hey, we have priorities.

So, we composed a list of about twenty items and decided that we could just walk to the store (about ten blocks away) and carry our parcels home. Being the genius that I am, I suggested that we tote some suitcases. I mean, they have wheels and, though significantly smaller than a car's, would be helpful in transporting the items back.

I strapped on a backpack and grabbed two suitcases. One is extra large and the other slightly under it in size. Just convenient enough to slip inside the larger. Mal grabbed her purse (which in all honesty is also comparable in size to the extra large suitcase!) and we set out for Safeway.

Though a bit awkward and cumbersome because of its size, the suitcase rolled surprisingly well over the brick sidewalks. The evening was beautiful and the weather perfect for a grocery stroll. About halfway there, we time checked ourselves. Mallory stressed the importance of a quick shop so that we wouldn't "find ourselves on the South side of town with suitcases after dark." Good point. After picking up the pace, we arrived in plenty of time to shop without feeling stressed.

We split up the list and I kept the cart because my half had most of the heavy items on it (bottled water, detergent, milk, juice, sodas, etc.). As I attacked the aisles, Mal occasionally showed up and added her listed items to the cart. My concern mounted as the “20 items” was threatening to spill over the cart’s capacity. Does she realize that she just picked the largest shampoo and conditioner bottles on the whole isle? I was just as guilty, however. My Capris Suns and DiGiorno pizzas weren’t exactly on the list either.

We made our way to the checkout. Mallory only had to leave twice to get more items as I waited in line.

“Do we really need two boxes of strawberries this trip?” I asked as she held the boxes over the cart.

Blinking, she replied, “Well, they were buy one, get one free.” I nodded and she added them to the pile. Might as well.

We paid and made our way outside to divvy our purchases up between the cases and backpack. Most of the larger items had to go in the largest case. There was no getting a box of 30 water bottles into the smaller of the two. Along with the water went the detergent, juice (and Capris Suns), Dr. Peppers, and milk. Inside my backpack I stuffed lighter items. Mallory packed her case with the leftover items and was forced to carry the eight rolls of paper towels (there was no fitting them anywhere!).

I leaned over and picked up my case. Mallory laughed as my face betrayed me. This was not going to be a leisurely stroll home. The suitcase probably weighed at least half as much as I do. I have a new respect for ants and their ability to carry ten times their body weight.

We began our journey home. I knew before we even left the parking lot that this wouldn’t rank in the “Top Ten DC Moments”. Not that I have a top ten… but if I did.

Two blocks later my calves felt like they would burst through my skin. Mal was ten paces ahead of me. Realizing that my voice (and grunts) weren’t as audible, she stopped to check on me. I switched the suitcase’s handle from my left to right hand (for the fifth time already). Thankfully, it was staying in tact under the burden of the load. Laughing at me she asked, “You okay, sister?”

I lied. “I’m good. This is just heavy.” I paused and looked at my calves. Sadness, they don’t look any more muscular. Glancing (was that a pity face?) at my load, she offered to take it from me. When I refused, she suggested that we swap our loads halfway. There were at least four more blocks to halfway. I heartily agreed and we continued.

Another two blocks. “Man,” she commented, “my hands are hot from carrying these paper towels.” Is she kidding? She persisted. “From the plastic, you know?” I refrained from feeding the conversation. She was somehow ten paces ahead of me again. I felt like a two year old trying to keep up with a mother’s larger stride. I was failing miserably.

Looking up, I could see the park- our halfway point! It was inspiring. Not inspiring enough to cause me to forget for a second what I was toting, but inspiring enough to get me there. We sat on a bench and watched the people in the park. Someone rollerbladed by. A family was playing football. Was that… fencing? Fencing with sticks, a couple practiced about fifty yards away. For a second, I forgot about our daunting task.

I rolled the suitcase to the edge of the park and Mal and I exchanged loads. In a half second after she took the handle from me, her face showed full appreciation of all my grunts and pauses. She understood.

“Wow,” she laughed.

I smiled, nodded, and replied with a simple, “yeah.” We set off again. Mal set the pace and kept it. We made it from the park to the apartment in about ten minutes.

Upon our arrival, one of our neighbors saw our ordeal and helped us carry the cases inside. The larger was carried by Mal and him because of its weight.

We concluded a couple things. One, that we enjoy having the car for grocery shopping and two, if we EVER have to do that again, we’re sticking to the list.

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

I can see you two walk down the street...ha..ha....keep writing...Dean

Anonymous said...

Vin and I had a similar experience. We dropped his car off for an oil change and walked home. Only about a mile, but GEEZ am I out of shape, and lazy to boot.