It was a bit of a scare earlier this month. One of my college students came down sick, and during times like these, you take that seriously. He self-quarantined himself for a little over a week before eventually getting a coronavirus test. Thankfully, it came back negative. What a relief! That had been an unnerving time, and it gets you thinking about things, like how you should never take your health for granted. Or how strong these bonds between teachers and students can be. Or how strange the grocery buying habits of college students are.
I learned this after offering to pick him up some groceries. When I asked how he was situated for food, he told me he had a few cans of soup and that he would be alright. Oh, OK. Sure! “Text me a list and I’ll pick you up something,” I remember writing him, thinking a carton of ramen noodles and a bag of beef jerky would do the trick.
I had no idea what I was getting myself into.
He wrote back, “Are you sure? Okay, let me think. I’ll keep it simple,” and then rattled off a list that a sociologist will one day have to explain to me. It went like this:
- Eggs
- Oranges
- Asparagus
- Sweet potatoes (as many as possible)
- Packs of microwaveable quinoa/rice
- Taco sauce
- Ketchup
- Cans of Chunky Soup
- Gatorade
- Any meat, if there is any
- Bananas
- Brussel sprouts
- Chocolate milk
- Those little packets of oatmeal
I remember slumping back in my seat at the sight of it. Not because he would ask for so much – college students are ALWAYS hungry! – but rather the oddness of it. How nothing seemed to go together. It was like some kind of modern artwork that you stare at for hours, but can never find the rhyme or reason behind it.
“What kind of list is this!?!” I remember texting back.
I needed clarification. More specifics. This list left too much up to the imagination. Like “meat.” I pictured myself going up to the butcher and asking if he had any “meat” in the storage freezer because everything out on the shelves was neatly labeled “chicken” or “pork” or “ground round.” And I just needed “meat.” Everyday, generic, un-determinable meat!
Or “Chunky Soup.” This one really made me uncomfortable. Soup is a very personal thing. Some would argue it defines you. You can’t just pick soup at random for a person. This was a lot of pressure to place on someone.
It’s like one of those unspoken rules among men that you just don’t break. You don’t buy another man underwear. You don’t give Valentine’s Day gift advice about what to get for a significant other, and you don’t take tips on how to do electrical work. One will get you killed, and the other will get you electrocuted. Soup is up there on that list.
Or “taco sauce.” Taco … sauce! What even is that?!? I went to the grocery store twice for him, and both times he asked for taco sauce and ketchup. Both were essential. I could skip everything else, but please don’t forget the taco sauce. What did he do with them? “Put them on eggs!” I was told. (The exclamation point seemed to express, “Duh!”)
I should note that while my family has never used taco sauce, we have been working on the same bottle of ketchup for the last 13 years. So, how anyone could go through two bottles of each in a little over a week was a mystery to me.
But, these here are hard times and you need what you need.
When he texted to tell me he got his test results back and it was negative, I felt this incredible sense of relief. You get to know these students so well, and they really do become family to you. I think that’s the really special thing about the college environment, and what makes it so rewarding.
“I am so happy to hear this,” I texted him. “And even happier that I don’t need to grocery shop for you anymore.”
“That’s fair,” he replied.
Yet, I will say I kind of miss those oddball shopping trips, and trying to figure it all out like a sociologist. When I’m at the store now, I even find myself pausing by the taco sauce aisle. But I just can’t bring myself to try it.