Last Saturday, I accidentally left my phone at the house when I went to run errands. Luckily, I remembered my mask and my shopping list.

Although I vowed to never become one of those people, the truth is that I’ve grown accustomed to my phone. Indeed, I initially panicked when I realized I had left it charging. What if an emergency occurred? What if I happened upon an accident? I was going to be shopping for my mom and sister as well as for myself. What if they remembered an item they had forgotten to add to their list? How would they get this news of epic proportions to me?

Thus, I considered heading back to the house to retrieve the phone. But I had made plans to meet a masked personage in a parking lot to make a quick exchange – mind your own business – and I didn’t have the time to spare.

After the exchange, I made my way into the store and, well, I’m happy to report that I survived without a phone.

Sure, searching for one-minute oats, which was included on my mom and sister’s list, can only be described as perplexing. Although I combed over every shelf in the oats section, I did not find any that were timed. I did, however, find two-and-a-half-minute Cream of Wheat.

Anyway, I settled on a container of quick oats and I’m still unsure if I made the wise choice. I guess having a phone would have helped make that task a little easier, as I could have called them for advice.

Also, before I left the house, I sent messages to my sisters and niece, asking what they wanted for dessert (pronounced as zert at the Goff Estate). Again, since I didn’t have the phone with me, I couldn’t receive their responses. So, whilst at the store, I decided I would have to create another mouth-watering zert from ingredients I had on hand. (And that’s exactly what I did, whipping up a batch of my award-worthy chocolate chip cookies.)

Otherwise, only one glitch occurred. My sisters, nieces, and I play a scavenger hunt, of sorts. Basically, when we spot our find whilst out and about, we share the news with the others. Sometimes, we even include photographic evidence. (Relax, we don’t do so whilst driving.)

Well, I spotted a find, but since I didn’t have my phone, I couldn’t take a photo or even share the news semi-immediately.

Forget the timed oats.

Forget the zert.

It was then that I most missed my phone.

This post originally appeared in the Appalachian News-Express.

If you read this-here space last week, you might remember that I left you with a cliffhanger. Due to my own actions, I had lost my Walmart Grocery Pickup timeslot. Thus, I was worried that I wouldn’t be able to procure a Barbie for my great-niece’s kindergarten graduation or bananas for a nanner pudding.

As it turns out, my sister had scheduled a pickup time (no surprise there), so she added the Barbie to her order and my great-niece squealed with delight when she received her surprise. And as it turns out, I had already scheduled a trip to the Food City, so I added bananas to that list.

But what of the third part of my cliffhanger? Did I obtain a replacement time slot?

Yes.

You might be saying to yourself, “Self, I wonder how it went?”

Wonder no longer. Overall, I had a pleasant pickup experience and plan to use the service again. Indeed, I still can’t believe that all I had to do was zip into a parking space, wait a few minutes, and then leave with a backseat full of groceries and supplies.

Of course, I do have a couple quibbles. For starters, if they don’t have an item, they make substitutions. I had no problem with three of their four substitutions. But my taste buds had been looking forward to enjoying the Supercenter’s bakery fresh shortbread cookies. So, imagine their disappointment when they received sugar cookies.

We live to learn, and I learned that we can refuse substitutions. (By the way, I found a good home for the sugar cookies.)

My other quibble involves cereal. One of my first tasks was to add two boxes of generic cereal to my cart. But when I checked the cart a few days later, I saw that the cereal was no longer available. So, I added one box of brand cereal.

So, imagine my surprise when I spied three boxes of cereal in my car. (On an unrelated topic…I also ended up with enough spaghetti to feed a family of 12 for a year, but that’s on me.)

Anyway, I close with a few words on the Grocery Pickup app. When I announced my pickup plans to my family, I received a message from my niece. Knowing that my slight paranoia prevents me from embracing too many apps, she asked how I planned to proceed with my order.

“Through the website,” answered I.

“Hmm,” responded she.

On the morning of my pickup, I received an email from the Supercenter, advising me that my order was ready and asking me to let them know when I was on my way.

It took me about three seconds to realize I would need to download the app to proceed with my order. I sent my niece a message that read, in part, “I have to install that expletive app. Are you happy?”

She must have been overjoyed because she sent me a laughing-until-you-cry emoji. So, my pickup experience was pleasant for her, too.

This post originally appeared in the Appalachian News-Express.

I have been borderline obsessed with Walmart’s grocery pickup since it came into existence last year. Firstly, I couldn’t understand why the company considered it good business sense to pay someone to shop for customers. (I eventually learned that the service represents another way they’re trying to stay competitive with Amazon.) Secondly, I’ve been on the verge of placing a pickup order too many times to count, only to  waller on the idea for so long that I eventually ran out of time and supplies, necessitating trips to the store.

Of course, my needs dictate that I go to the Supercenter only once every six weeks. So, it’s not like the grocery pickup would save me dozens of hours. Besides, I enjoy my occasional treks to the store.

But that was before the coronavirus. Nowadays, entering buildings not my own generates too much stress. Thus, it seemed like the perfect time to place my first pickup order.

Before doing so, I consulted my sister and nieces for advice. After all, they are grocery pickup experts and keep those associates busy. Then, I logged on, selected a pickup time, and started adding to my shopping cart.

Let’s start with the good news. I appreciate that I can instantly learn which items are on the shelves and instantly see the total of my selected items. You might be thinking to yourself, “Self, has she never before done ‘online’ shopping? Is she not familiar with the process?”

No, this is not my first foray into online shopping. But I’ve never before purchased groceries via a device. And as I saw the order total rise, I asked myself questions like, “Do I really need food?”

Anyway, here’s the not as good news. I’m not sure this process has saved time. That is not meant as a criticism of the Supercenter. It’s my fault for wallering over which box of lens wipes to add to the cart and comparing and contrasting the merits of various brands and sizes of crushed pineapples. Besides, at least I was able to do my shopping from the comfort of my home whilst watching TV and wearing pajamas.

Regardless, the grocery pickup did save me from outfitting myself with clothing, mask, and gloves/old socks, so all’s well. Right?

Not so fast.

I started my grocery shopping on a Sunday and selected a pickup time for the following Saturday. But I misunderstood my sister’s instructions. I thought she said I didn’t have to check out until a few hours before my selected time.

Wrong.

So, imagine my surprise when I clicked checkout Friday evening and received a message that I had lost my pickup time.

Questions flooded my confused mind: Would I be able to select another time that fit my schedule? How would I get bananas for the nanner pudding I had planned to make? And, most importantly, how would I procure the Barbie I had ordered for my great-niece’s kindergarten “graduation?”

Tune in next week for the answers to those questions and more.

This post originally appeared in the Appalachian News-Express.