H.E.B. a.k.a. The Jungle

You’ve seen Mean Girls. You know every school has its cliques. But did you know that grocery stores have cliques too? If you overanalyze everything and everyone in your life like I do, then you know. If not, well, luckily I have categorized them all for you below. Use this guide to survive the chaos that is the grocery store.


Upon entering, you are greeted by the produce crowd. These are trendy, health-conscious folks who make smoothies and stuff. (You may also find them in the organic frozen meats section.) I respect these people and I strive to be a part of this group. But no matter how many fruits and veggies I purchase, I’ll inevitably only eat the strawberries and leave the rest in the fridge until a future investigation of that weird smell leads me to realize that my well-intentioned produce has been in there for weeks. But keep gettin yo juice on, guys. Keep gettin yo juice on.

Moving on, we reach the winos. This aisle is busting with young men in button-downs and hipster eyewear studying each and every bottle on the shelf until they land on Barefoot because #poorcollegestudent. Your furrowed brows and intense concentration cannot fool me, sir. And yet, this aisle still intimidates me. I’m fully aware that no one is paying attention to my wine selection, but I’m nonetheless self-conscious as I reach for my Cupcake. You people are the reason I drink. You’re getting your wine at HEB, like calm down.

What up my dairy aisle-goers! I envy you folks. Don’t get me wrong I love my almond milk and coconut yogurt but man, what an exciting feat it would be to jubilantly stride up and down the myriad of delicate yogurts and variously flavored milks and finally land on that utterly (ay-oh) perfect dairy product. I just hope you guys never forget what a mooovelous blessing it is to be lactose tolerant. Drink that milk ’til the cows come home.

On to the dreaded bread aisle. (Only dreaded for poor, gluten-free me.) I think everyone’s day sort of picks up when they get to this aisle. White, wheat, bagel, English muffin, it’s all just very reassuring. Bad grade on a test? There’s a loaf for that. Forgot to record Ellen? Shame on you, but, there’s a loaf for that. This is an aisle full of smiles and high-fives and the sheer anticipation of carbs. I only visit the breads for my corn tortillas. Sidenote: you can generally infer everything you need to know about a person by the way he or she handles corn tortillas.

At last. We’ve finally made it to the frozen foods section. Ah, my people. This aisle consists of folks who probably have the time to bake a lasagna from scratch, but would rather watch Portlandia or rewrite the lyrics to a Miley song (blog coming soon). I’m so hungry by the time dinner rolls around (at 5 pm) that I can’t imagine taking the time to actually cook a meal. Like what a microwaste of time, am I right? *Pun courtesy of my gratitude towards the inventor of microwaves. On a totally unrelated note ugh why can’t I find a husband.


The grocery store is a jungle. But you can survive it as long as you know what you’re getting into. Or as long as you don’t think too hard about anything and go about your business as usual. But the latter suggestion doesn’t make for very intriguing blogs.