Friday morning, 8:45. Food Lion on the corner of Roxboro and Club, which is where I've been shopping for eleven years. I like mornings because the produce section has been restocked and there are no carts left abandoned in the middle of the aisle yet.

I don't write a grocery list. I know what I need because I've bought the same things enough times that the list lives in my head, and I know what my household goes through in a week the way I know how long it takes Marcus to eat a box of crackers (three days, no matter the size of the box).

I take a basket, not a cart. A basket means I can't overbuy — there's a physical limit to how much I can carry, and that constraint is useful. I've noticed that people with carts wander more.

Produce first

The yellow onions are $0.49 each today, normal price. I take four. Onions are in almost everything I cook and they keep a long time, so I don't worry about quantity.

The potatoes look fine. Five-pound bag for $2.99. I take one.

Carrots: $0.89 for a one-pound bag, already peeled. I take two bags. They go into soups, roasting pans, Marcus's lunch. The prepeeled kind are worth it because I actually use them. Whole carrots in a bag go soft before I get through them.

There's a display of bell peppers near the carrots. Red bell peppers are $1.29 each today, which is high. Green bell peppers are $0.79. I take one green pepper and put it in the basket. I use peppers in enough things — eggs, rice dishes, the occasional chili — that a single pepper is worth it.

The broccoli heads look yellowed at the edges. I skip them. That's money I'd spend and then throw away in four days.

Frozen vegetables are along the back wall. I get two bags of frozen green beans ($1.19 each) and one bag of frozen corn ($1.09). Frozen vegetables don't go bad and they cook in ten minutes. I should probably buy more of my vegetables this way than I do.

My phone buzzes in my coat pocket

Marcus. The text says: "can you get more rice" and then, thirty seconds later, "also do we have sriracha"

We have sriracha. We always have sriracha. I text back "yes rice, already have sriracha, don't text me again until noon" and put my phone away.

I add a two-pound bag of white long-grain rice to my basket. $1.49. We go through rice fast when Marcus is home, which he always is.

Meat section

This is where I spend real time. I start at the far end by the beef and work toward the poultry.

Ground beef is $4.99 a pound today, which is high. I look at it for a moment. The 80/20 blend is better for flavor — the fat matters — but $4.99 means a pound and a half costs me seven dollars and fifty cents. I put it back. Not today.

Pork shoulder is $2.29 a pound. Normal price for this store. I don't buy pork shoulder at normal price when I know it'll go on sale. I leave it.

The chicken thighs are $1.89 a pound, bone-in, skin-on. I pick up a three-pound package. Eight thighs, $5.67. This is what I was going to buy. At $1.89 a pound, bone-in thighs are the best value in this case by a significant margin. The boneless skinless breasts behind them are $5.99 a pound. I am not paying $5.99 a pound for something I can do less with.

There's a package of drumsticks in the markdown section. Yellow sticker, needs to be used or frozen by today: $3.20 for two pounds. I look at them. I look at my basket. I put them in. That's dinner or lunch covered for one more day, and I'll put them straight in the freezer when I get home.

Dairy

Eggs first. $2.49 for a dozen. I open the carton and check for cracks — all twelve are fine. The person behind me in the dairy aisle is doing the same thing and we nod at each other in the way of people performing the same small act of due diligence.

Milk: $3.19 for a gallon. I take one gallon, not two. Milk has a fixed expiration timeline and there's no advantage to buying two.

Butter: $3.49. I need butter. It goes in.

Cheese: I check the block cheddar. Medium cheddar is $3.49 for eight ounces. There's a sale tag on the two-pound block of generic sharp cheddar: $5.99, which comes out to about $3 a pound. I take the two-pound block. Marcus eats cheese like it's a primary food group and the block form doesn't dry out the way sliced cheese does. I'll cube half of it and shred half when I get home.

Canned goods

Canned tomatoes: $0.79 for a 14.5-ounce can of diced. I take four. Canned tomatoes are in everything — soups, chili, sauce — and they have a shelf life measured in years, so I buy them in quantity whenever I remember to.

I look at the bean aisle. I have dried beans at home, both black and pinto. I don't need more. I pass.

There's a display at the end of the aisle with sweet Baby Ray's barbecue sauce on sale, $1.79 down from $2.99. I have most of a bottle at home. I take one anyway because $1.79 is close enough to the floor price that I might as well.

Dry goods

I need flour. The five-pound bag of all-purpose is $2.49. I take one.

I don't need salt. I don't need oil. I check mentally: rice, got it. Beans, have them. Sugar, I have half a bag. Oatmeal — I'm almost out. I grab the store-brand container of rolled oats, $2.99. That's two weeks of weekday breakfasts for Marcus when he's in a hurry.

Bread, then done

I pick up one loaf of bread — $1.99, the store's own label, white sandwich bread — and head for the checkout.

The woman at register four is named Dana and she has been at this store longer than I have been shopping here. She looks at my basket and says, "big chicken week?"

"Maybe," I tell her. "We'll see how the thighs go."

The total is $51.14. I look at the receipt in the parking lot the way I always do, not because I think they made a mistake, but because I want to see it as a document of what I chose and what it cost.

Three people. Seven days. Breakfasts, lunches, dinners, and Marcus's perpetual snacking. About $7.30 per person per day, which includes the oil and butter and salt already at home that didn't need buying this week.

I put the bags in the back seat and drive home. Marcus will ask what's for dinner before I've set the bags down. I don't mind. That's what the chicken thighs are for.