Anxiety at the Grocery Store.

Recently Germans celebrated the 25^th German Unity Day, which is a day chosen to commemorate the Berlin wall coming down and the reunification of Germany.  There are a lot of holidays in this country and we enjoy learning about the history behind each one.  This holiday fell on a Saturday, which meant all the stores would be closed that day in addition to normally being closed on Sunday.

We realized this shortly before the weekend, so we went out in a bit of a rush trying to figure out what groceries to buy.  Meal planning has been challenging since we don’t have access to many of our go-to ingredients.  I often feel anxious about going grocery shopping in Germany, but this day was a bit easier because I was quite hungry and the alternative was to have to keep going out to eat all weekend.

So we went, got our groceries, and I was happy that the experience was almost over as we were leaving the store.  I felt accomplished.  Mr. Meena stopped to buy a pretzel at one of the many food venues between the checkout and exit.  While I was waiting for him the deli counter across the way caught my eye (seriously, Kaufland, you need to stop tempting us with all this food after checkout).  They always offer us samples and they are always delicious.  We had wanted to purchase one of their dips during each visit but kept saying ‘next time’.  My hunger finally got the best of me, and I decided this was the day we would do it.

They didn’t speak English but we managed to sample and find our favorite one through nodding and pointing.  The sign said 1,60 (commas and periods tend to swap roles – one of the many differences between the US and Germany) for the Chef’s Recipe dip and Mr. Meena had five euros so we also went for the bread.  They rang us up and our eyes bulged when we saw the total was almost 11 euros (we only had 5).  The price was actually per 100 grams – which, in hindsight, should have been obvious.  We pulled out our change purses but still didn’t have enough.  I thought we had a large coin in the buggy (you have to put in money to get the cart, like at Aldi) so I returned it, but it was just a 50 cent piece.  I was starting panic and was seriously considering running away from the scene.  People were staring at us and I was really self-conscious about not speaking German, not having enough money, and holding up the line.  I’d always been really adamant that we always carry a lot of cash because I was anxious about having our credit card declined, but somehow we had spent all our money.  Finally Mr. Meena went over to the ATM in the store and used his German debit card even though there would be a fee.  I stood there and made awkward, semi-panicked eye contact with the guys behind the counter, who just kept giving me samples.  We finally paid and left, with Mr. Meena remarking that they would definitely remember us.

It’s amazing how situation-induced anxiety doesn’t dissolve once you are out of the situation.  I felt more threatened and close to panicking after we left the store than I did while we were in there.  I felt like I had no choice but to hold it together when I was standing in front of the deli counter with everyone looking at me.  Any other outcome would have been far too embarrassing.  But when it’s just me and Mr. Meena walking down the street with our grocery bags I felt very much like panicking.  Fortunately it’s only a few blocks home.

The ordeal wasn’t over, though.  When we were almost in front of our hotel I watched a car pull out from behind our building into the path of another car.  The other car swerved out of the way, hit the median, and was airborne.  It had been going pretty fast, as all the cars around here seem to, but landed safely without hurting anyone.  We went upstairs and I took a photo from our bedroom.

The only damage seemed to be the flat tire.

I stood at my window, like many others were doing, and was thankful that it wasn’t worse.  The area that the car had swerved into was the median for people crossing the street.  Mr. Meena and I have often waited in that median to cross the road.  The near accident gave my still simmering anxiety a big push.  I couldn’t help but imagine how vulnerable we had been and wonder if I could ever cross the street in that spot without fear.

When I have stressful experiences in public it makes it hard for me to go out again.  (I frequently suffer from agoraphobia.)  But there is comfort in knowing that I got through the stressful situation.  The experience gave me a reason to keep trying, and a reminder to keep looking for reasons to try.

Featured photo by Daniel licensed under CC BY-NC-SA 2.0.