In my 27-year-old grown-ass man universe, grocery shopping generally consists of me buying materials to make sandwiches and/or fruit smoothies, plus a few random items I decide at the last minute I need that I really don’t (i.e., pistachios or buffalo chicken pizzas). This one time I bought salmon from the neighborhood grocery store the woman behind the counter labeled me a “bachelor” based on my cart’s contents. The fish lady had me, a Ginger stranger, pegged.
On my most recent grocery shopping misadventure, I explored the aisle with protein supplements and decided purchasing Muscle Milk was the motivation I needed to regain my country strength (i.e., return to the gym). In this recession, I convinced myself that $7 was a worthwhile investment for a four-pack of protein shakes. Country strength – the kind you would ordinarily find in farmhands accustomed to hurling bales of hay around all day – is recession proof, I’ve decided.
Tonight I drank No. 3 of the four vanilla creme-flavored Muscle Milks I purchased a week ago. I am pleased to report, though I did not work out before drinking it, I am feeling country strong.