When my mom and I went to the commissary at the air force base last weekend, instead of grabbing what we needed, we had to go through each aisle to search for the items. After shopping there for almost a decade, someone had re-arranged all the items in the store. “Is this someone’s idea of a joke?” I asked my mom. The new arrangement was completely illogical. I mean, who places ant killer and pesticide across from the frozen pizzas? And who places pet supplies and dog food across from the seafood? And nuts with chocolate? Huh?
I don’t know whether to laugh or to complain to the manager.