My darling readers,
I must deeply apologize. It's been so long since I've written and that is unacceptable. I don't want to give excuses of how busy I am, or how writing a blog can be an exhaustive thought. But there is one thing I want to clarify: I solemnly swear I'm up to no good.
The past week has brought many exciting new events and some Déjà-vu, including the second consecutive Saturday of clubbing until daybreak. But I'm feeling rather prolific today so if you're lucky, you'll get another post of mine shortly after this, in which I'll list a few tips I've picked up from my (minor) experience.
The focus of this blog is German supermarkets.
So you know that whole stereotype that Germans are straightforward and to-the-point. No fluff. No stuff. Just tough. Well nowhere is that more true than when you go to do your groceries. I heard stories of how dangerous the registers were but up until today I had managed to survive. You see, what happens is you pack up your own items into the bags you've brought with you (can I get a Hallelujah for Eco-friendly) and you better prepare to grab and go. As the cashier shuffles your groceries across the scanner and onto the small ledge that's perhaps one square foot in area (no, not the seven-foot luxurious metallic terrace in America), you stack and stuff and cram everything possible so that you don't hold up the line.
Don't you dare hold up the line. How rude and unorganized of you. Now the unamused cashier might not say anything to you but they give you that look. You know the one. The "you're a moron" look. And I can't help but feel that I am. That I've somehow shattered the entire German system of grocery shopping. It's not so much the cashier's glare as the haunting idea that things are not running efficiently because of me. Me, the lone foreigner, with all the focused and diligent common Germans waiting in line behind me.
A serious Lucy and Ethel assembly line.
I must confess, however, how cheap I can buy things for. Today I bought a bag of apples (yes, two kilos worth) for less than two and a half Euros. Not to mention the near-fifths of vodka for five. That's a deal we definitely haven't passed up. Sorry, mom.
I must deeply apologize. It's been so long since I've written and that is unacceptable. I don't want to give excuses of how busy I am, or how writing a blog can be an exhaustive thought. But there is one thing I want to clarify: I solemnly swear I'm up to no good.
The past week has brought many exciting new events and some Déjà-vu, including the second consecutive Saturday of clubbing until daybreak. But I'm feeling rather prolific today so if you're lucky, you'll get another post of mine shortly after this, in which I'll list a few tips I've picked up from my (minor) experience.
The focus of this blog is German supermarkets.
So you know that whole stereotype that Germans are straightforward and to-the-point. No fluff. No stuff. Just tough. Well nowhere is that more true than when you go to do your groceries. I heard stories of how dangerous the registers were but up until today I had managed to survive. You see, what happens is you pack up your own items into the bags you've brought with you (can I get a Hallelujah for Eco-friendly) and you better prepare to grab and go. As the cashier shuffles your groceries across the scanner and onto the small ledge that's perhaps one square foot in area (no, not the seven-foot luxurious metallic terrace in America), you stack and stuff and cram everything possible so that you don't hold up the line.
Don't you dare hold up the line. How rude and unorganized of you. Now the unamused cashier might not say anything to you but they give you that look. You know the one. The "you're a moron" look. And I can't help but feel that I am. That I've somehow shattered the entire German system of grocery shopping. It's not so much the cashier's glare as the haunting idea that things are not running efficiently because of me. Me, the lone foreigner, with all the focused and diligent common Germans waiting in line behind me.
A serious Lucy and Ethel assembly line.
I must confess, however, how cheap I can buy things for. Today I bought a bag of apples (yes, two kilos worth) for less than two and a half Euros. Not to mention the near-fifths of vodka for five. That's a deal we definitely haven't passed up. Sorry, mom.
No comments:
Post a Comment