Snobby and her Little Sister

This is the third time in the last week that I’ve been reprimanded by my little sister for not partaking in free samples. For some reason, the thought is horrifying to her. “Who walks right by free food?” I can hear her in my head even before she’s spotted the alluring little stand with a smiling hair-netted woman standing behind it. Even my grandma recently told me that she’s perfectly happy to call the Costco sample circuit “lunch.” Really?! Somehow I’m immune to the free food spell.

“But why?” asks my sister, so incredulously and earnestly it makes me pause. To be perfectly honest, I’m not entirely sure. For my sister, the little red trays with secret delights sitting in paper cups beckon to her like sirens. Her focus becomes hunter-like, intent on tracking down every last sample in the building before our designated shopping time is up. They take control of her and she can’t rest—won’t rest—until all the samples are sampled. Up and down each aisle she goes until she has broken free from the trance of the sirens. In the end, they relinquish her just like the paper cups so carelessly tossed into the trash.

For me, those mystery cups sitting on the red trays are, well, exciting to a certain degree, but only until I get close enough to tell what they contain. Then, bam! and the surprise is revealed: “beef strips,” candied pineapple, or best case scenario, half a wonton or something I’m actually interested in putting in my mouth. You can (and probably should) call me snobby—I will. I don’t mean to suggest that I’m against trying new things; in fact, I usually relish the act. Rather, I only have a mild interest in trying foods that I am pretty sure won’t meet my standards. There, I said it. I’m snobby!

My feelings toward free samples result from my half-hearted disdain for prepackaged foods and the fact that samples sidetrack me in my otherwise relatively streamlined shopping experience. Samples are just a means for distracting us from our true grocery goals and getting us to put things in our carts that we don’t actually need (or want). Just think about those vulnerable shoppers who make the mistake of going to the store hungry! Plus, there’s a certain messiness that comes with flocking to the sample podiums (my sister is rolling her eyes at me); first, you have to interact in a friendly manner while internally thinking about one or more of the following:

• “I’m going to eat this bite with little intention of buying it, thank you very much.”

• “This one is definitely going to be messy!”

• “I’m so hungry I could eat that entire tray’s worth of samples!”

• “I’m ranking them internally in my head, and if this one is good, I’m figuring out a way of coming back for another one.”

• “I never knew that [insert store name here] carried this!”

• “Am I going to look like an idiot trying to eat this?”

Then, after you’ve managed to swallow in front of your audience, you must then discard the trash and feel a teeny-bit guilty for the trees and plastic you’ve put into the landfill for only a measly bite. Seeing this on paper, I see how this might not make sense to anyone but me. I’ll admit that it’s quite a ridiculous way of thinking about free food, but please know that I’m incredibly grateful for having the privilege of choosing to not eat something free. Perhaps, the next time I happen across a little red tray covered with little white cups, I should listen to my sister and just take a damn sample!