OPINION: Excessive choice leaves this shopper sweating

DEAR supermarket worker kid,

You're a hero. My hero. Perhaps even a superhero.

The other night, my lovely girlfriend was caught back late at work so I nipped off to do a quick spot of night grocery shopping.

After a long day of work, complete with a chat to the brother of a serial killer, I was pretty zonked.

Strolling through the aisles at that moment was up there with playing twister on a roll of barbed wire, in terms of appeal to me.

I battled through the fruit and veg, meat, dairy and condiments sections towards the final, almighty hurdle in my path to freedom.

Women's sanitary pads.


They were on the shopping list and I was the man tasked with the challenge.

I was the hero this city needed.

I was essentially Batman.

But even Batman was just a man, albeit slightly richer than me, and as a man he could be brought undone at times.

As I stood there in the aisle, my basket full of carrots and cheese and what not, I was stumped. Completely and utterly baffled.

Wings? These things fly?

Mother of God. So many varieties.

Why are they coloured? No one can see them.

Do they really need rainforest prints?

You get my point.

I was overwhelmed but trying to play it cool.

I didn't want to be the creepy looking fat guy stalking out the tampon area in Aisle 6.

Epic fail.

I looked more lost than George Michael at a Victoria's Secret show.

Seriously, that many varieties?

It's like toilet paper.

Why are there so many varieties of dunny paper?

Scented, printed, two-ply, 10-ply, moisturising, organic - I don't get it.

It's not like you're going to use it and then start decorating the house with it afterwards for the lovely marine patterns.

Anyway, I digress. Back to the challenge at hand.

So I drew out the shopping list, in a bid to match the hastily scrawled description with one of numerous varieties of necessities that lay in front of me.

Was I a dead certainty to pick out the exact type of feminine necessity requested first time, no problems, before quickly jamming them in the basket and striding away?

No chance.

But thankfully the young kid working at the store took mercy on me, turned and said, "What are you looking for?"

I think the look on my face was answer enough: I was drowning.

Within about 10 seconds, he had loaded me up with the goods requested and sent me forth - a pad-carrying hero off to aid his city (girlfriend).

I'm only sorry I didn't get your name, bud. I would've given you a big wrap to the manager.

Whoever the kid was at IGA Marketplace on Monday night, tip of the cap. You, sir, are a legend.

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