Grocery shopping is always an adventure.

Friday is usually grocery shopping day in my world. It has its own set aside time because it’s something that must be carefully planned for since I don’t have a car. Which was fine when I first moved down to school. You see, my roommate actually liked me then and would allow me to tag along when she grocery shopped. We were even cool enough to share in buying things like milk and whatnot. But that was a long time ago and a completely different story.

For a while now, I’ve been on my own when it comes to transporting groceries back to the apartment. If I go home for the weekend, it’s great because I can either go grocery shopping while back home or I can usually talk my dad into stopping at the store down here to let me pick up a few things. However, most of the time I just have to walk a few blocks from the store to a bus stop and rely on public transportation to take me the rest of the way home. Nothing like riding a bus with groceries.

Most of the time, my boyfriend tags along with me. Which is lovely because I have some company and somebody to help me carry things. And as a result, he gets dinner made for him. Pretty sweet deal, if you ask me.

These conditions alone usually make grocery shopping enough of an adventure as it is… but this weekend, it was even more so. Why, you ask? Because there was a lesson involved! That’s right. I learned something.

To combat the fact that I’m a college student who often eats ramen or some other noodle/rice mix when she’s feeling lazy and not wanting to make dinner–which is more often than it should be– I like to try my hand at some real cooking on the weekends. I got it in my head that I wanted to try and make pulled pork in the crock pot. It was a great idea on paper. But at the store, I stood looking at all the cuts of meat and was like… “Wtf is a shoulder butt?”

After a few minutes of feeling quite out of element, I finally found what cut I needed. Except I needed like four pounds of meat… not the eight that was there. And I didn’t really want to buy all of it and have to put half in the freezer. I looked at Brandon and was like “What do I do?” But neither one of us were taught in the ways of advanced grocery shopping. We both shrugged at each other and I glanced over at the meat counter with what was probably a look of disgust because I was going to actually have to talk to somebody.

I finally plucked up the courage to go talk to the guy behind the counter, metaphorically throwing my hands in the air because I really didn’t want to. I probably sounded really silly. “I’M TRYING TO COOK. BUT YOU DON’T HAVE WHAT I WANT. TOO MUCH PORK! BLARG!”

However, he was a most wonderful guy. He went over, helped me pick out what I needed and then went back and cut it in half for me so that I had exactly the piece of meat required for my recipe. And I stood there, holding that hunk of pork in my hands, in complete awe. I had no clue that it was that easy.

I was so proud of myself. I even texted my mother to tell her of my accomplishment. I think Brandon was a little tickled over how excited I was for almost the next hour. But that didn’t phase me. I was like “Don’t you understand? I did something like a real adult. I had a problem, asked some stranger for help, and got shit done. I never do that.”

I am a shy person in most social situations. I definitely don’t like it when I don’t know what I’m doing. I get flustered and I hate feeling like I’m making a fool of myself. But I wanted to succeed in cooking that pulled pork enough to step out of my comfort zone and go talk to a guy… when I wasn’t entirely sure what I needed him to do for me, and stumbled over questions until he finally understood what needed to be done. My experience with purchasing meat usually is just picking up a package of chicken breasts. I didn’t know you could just walk up and say “Good day, sir. I have this particularly nice slab of meat here. The problem is, I only want half. Could you be a good chap and cut it for me please?”

And I donno. I was pleased with myself for speaking up and getting something done. I know it might be a small pleasure, but sometimes you just have to relish those as well. Positive reinforcement, right? I mean, how else am I going to learn how the rest of the world works without somebody holding my hand and walking me through it?

Also, even happier ending: The pulled pork turned out great. I even made hand-mashed potatoes to go alone with it. I must say, in the end, I was feeling pretty boss and happy with myself.