The politics of grocery shopping

First, a shopper must make it to the door without being cajoled to become a registered voter, sign a petition, donate to tsunami relief, buy a box of Girl Scout cookies or adopt a litter of kittens. If you make it that far - definitely avoid making eye contact - take a minute to figure out if it is even politically correct to be in said store.

Are you in an antiquated building that everybody wants replaced but just can't agree how? You might be seen as a supporter of corporate architects rather than the grassroots activists touting smaller plans.

Are you in a large-scale chain battling with workers over health benefits and living wages? You obviously care about nothing more than the cheap price of jelly and eggs. Where is your humanity? Where is your compassion for the working people who bag your groceries, you selfish capitalist?

Or, are you in a little mom-and-pop because of pending strikes at the large chains? Obviously, you don't believe in the American right to make a buck and aren't sympathetic to rising business costs like worker's compensation. You must be some bleeding heart socialist.

In either case, labels aside, stepping though the automatic door into the grocery haven only brings more endless options. Fair trade coffee, free-range chicken, Chilean grapes, overfarmed sea bass? When the person in the check-out line next to you peers into your basket, think of the impression given off by buying Nabisco Nilla Wafers (which support Philip Morris meaning you secretly endorse smoking) and veal (have you no love for the helpless baby animals?)

If you buy soda or beer in cans you better promise to cut each individual O-ring. Can't risk the sea life. If you buy iceberg lettuce and transfat-laden Oreos with children in hand you're just asking for a lecture on infant obesity and bad nutrition.

And what if you frequent the store's deli, sushi counter or pizza bakery? You'll be to blame when the local food joints in town, undercut by cheaper prices and fewer customers, shut down.

If you do manage to get to the check-out line without having a political label stamped on your forehead, another dilemma arises: baggage. No, not paper or plastic but also cloth or nothing at all. San Francisco officials are mulling the idea of charging 17 cents per bag to cut down on overuse and help the environment. Seventeen cents! If I overstuff one bag to spare two others I might be able to afford a box of Mac and Cheese. Oh, wait - that's Kraft. They used genetically engineered corn in their Taco Bell taco shells.

Maybe it's true that you are what you eat. Or, maybe you are just what you can get away with buying.