Yes, We’re Two Women. Yes, We’re Paying for Our Groceries Together.

Here’s a hint: we are purchasing these items together and loading them into our Subaru.

Photo from freepik

Hey pal! Before we get this checkout show on the road, we just wanted to make something clear: we are paying for our groceries together.

Yes, I know. We’re two adult women with one shopping cart. We are unloading our shared groceries onto the conveyor belt in a fluid, coordinated manner that suggests both upper-body strength and emotional intimacy. It’s a lot to process at 6:42 p.m. on a Tuesday. But this will, in fact, be a single transaction.

Believe it or not, we are shopping for one household. A shared household. A household that contains two adult women and one extremely spoiled cat. Crazy, right?

And no, we’re not friends, sisters, cousins, colleagues, roommates, Mormon sister wives, synchronized swimming partners, or any other thing you might be thinking. We are simply two adults buying groceries for our shared life, which I promise is far less narratively confusing than whatever you’re workshopping in your head.

I know we both have long hair and that might throw you off. Maybe you’re thinking, “Statistically, one of them should have a disastrous DIY pixie cut.” Fair enough! But I assure you, despite what the propaganda will have you believe, long hair can coexist. It can even share a shower drain (albeit not very well, but that’s why we have a jug of Drano in our cart.)

Before asking, it might be helpful to take a look at the things we’ve put on the belt. Kale. Oat milk. A variety pack of IPAs. 150 tins of wet cat food.

Let’s do a little thought experiment: what kind of person might buy these items? Just say the first thing that comes to mind. If that’s too hard, here’s a hint: we are two women who are purchasing these items together and loading them into our Subaru.

Does that make things clear? No? Okay. Then what do I need to do to make you understand? Hold hands? Kiss? [Redacted] my [redacted] in her [redacted] [redacted] right on the conveyor belt while I play Tracy Chapman off my phone? Would that work?

And while we’re here: when you ask, “together or separate”, what outcome are you anticipating? Do you think we accidentally converged at the belt with identical grocery hauls? That this is a meet-cute gone horribly logistical? That at any moment one of us will gasp and say, “Oh my God, I thought this was my cart”?

No. This is intentional. We live together. We meal plan. We own a label maker. We have a joint Google Doc titled “Soups to Try.” We just got back from a long weekend in P-Town. Tell me, what exactly is it that you think we are to each other?

But okay, fine. If it makes things easier for everyone involved, we are very good friends. Very good friends who just so happen to be paying for our groceries together. And don’t worry — we brought our own reusable tote bags.