Shopping is such an adventure these days. You never know what you'll find. Literally.
"I'll be back in an hour, going out for ground beef and rice," you say. Two hours later: "Hey, I'm back. Couldn't find any beef, but I found a chair leg and some loose piano keys."
It's like that, right? If it wasn't there last week but it's in the store now, you pick it up.
Before the Covidian Malaise upended the Etch-a-Sketch of our comfy assumptions, you could find beef on any given day in any given supermarket. Remember that? If there wasn't any beef, you took umbrage.
You, a jerk: "Excuse me? Are you the manager? I'd like a word. And the word I would like is hamburger. Why isn't there any hamburger? I have people coming over, and we're going to grill big, thick, juicy burgers and top them with cheese as thick as a deck of cards, and I come here, and what do I see?"
Manager: "There's hamburger right there."
You: "That stuff? That's 97-3. You know, only 3% fat. It's like eating a Sunday newspaper. Don't even talk about the 90-10, it's like 2% milk compared to skim; what's the point? When I say hamburger, I'm talking about the 85-15."
Manager: "Sir, I believe there's some 85-15 in the case. Let me help you."