Pink Aisle Confronted...

As is usual, I found my grocery shopping path changing course after January 1st.
I was taking long routes to "find" the eggs, jumping aisles to get that needed bread, or just telling myself the toilet paper could wait until next time.

I steer clear of the "Pink Aisle" every year.
(Say this as if it's a story from the Twilight Zone for full affect.)

If you've read my past posts on this subject, you know I've been battling Valentines Day for a long time. But last year, I told myself I would take the battle head-on, celebrating by buying/eating an entire box of chocolates from the dreaded--shove hearts down your throat--Pink Aisle.

The battle was fierce, and I realized a three step program was needed:

Step 1: Register and recognise the actual existence of the Pink Aisle.

About mid January, I mustard up the nerve to motivate my eyes to gaze upon the aisle as I walked through the grocery store doors. I had no problems finding it, as shiny red helium balloons circled it's location, and weird blood dripping light illuminated its being (I'm guessing this is from the reflection of the fluorescent lighting). And then my head would move to the vegetable section and I would decide there was no need for the actual items I entered the store for, because I wasn't ready for step two quite yet. This went on for a few weeks.

Step 2: Stand in-front of the Pink Aisle and take-in all the crazy hearts and stuffed animals it contains.

You might say this would have been a great time to get over my unnatural fear and just enter the frick'n (yes, I'm from Utah) aisle. But I couldn't. Instead I just stood staring at the long abyss, blockading others admittance while I clutched a hold of the cat food bag, Mint-Milano cookies, and soda I was purchasing for the night. After a few minutes, I'll admit I ran to the self-checkout stand and quickly swiped the bar codes so I could seek comfort at home from my cats.

Step 3: Place yourself in that aisle, baby!

This happened the night before Valentines Day. After driving a co-worker home from a late night at work, I achieved the confidence to confront the aisle. But let me say this before I proceed. This year I found myself in an odd state of being. You see, this year was different from the last twleve. This year, I actually had a Valentine!!!
So as I walked into the store I rushed with determination to confront, and wallop, the damn Pink aisle for all the annoyance it presented in my life previously. I made it about 5 feet in and stopped dead.

The shelves were dishevelled and picked over. Each one ransacked by individuals picking-up heart chocolate packages and tossing them aside in frustration. Perusing my options, I quietly and with confidence chose a tiny red hear shaped box of chocolates. It's cover marked by Snoopy and friend (this seemed the best option as Snoopy and I go way back and he and his pals comforted me in my youth).

It seemed to easy...
But it wasn't hard to eat the chocolates...

My Valentine comforted me the next day. He did everything right. A thoughtful gift--with me in mind, reservations at a nice restaurant of his choosing, wonderful conversation and laughter, and mini cup cakes for dessert... and not one thing from the dreaded "Pink Aisle!"

Who knows how my impression will be of the Pink Aisle next year? For now it's camouflaged by pastel colors of eggs and small stuffed chickadees and lambs. But I know it's waiting, bidding its time!

At least I've made the first steps to reconciling our friendship.