Erik Eckel

Handwritten shopping lists are, increasingly, a rarity. And that fact saddens me, as each such discarded note offers a unique, often compelling story. I was reminded of this fact by a recent Longreads piece, Eight Limes, No More: The Accidental Poetry Of Found Lists, written by Mira Ptacin.

For years I zealously collected such deserted notes. These little treasures were usually found abandoned in a grocery cart pulled from the corral upon entering a store.

Here’s but one example recovered from a Kroger visit, if memory serves, in the early aughts. Recorded in pencil on a Monopril (Fosinopril Sodium) Easy-To-Use Ace Inhibitor scratch pad, the list reveals some 11 items this shopper sought, including towel paper (as opposed to paper towels), sweet relish and cereal. Other entries include “4 rolls,” although the naming convention proves inconsistent with other entries, such as “(1) Bagel” and “(2) Tuna Fish”.

Such a list, with its biscuits and cereal, milk and O.J., might initially appear typical. But, when you pause and take time to consider each individual note, stories emerge.

Take the “2 Meats” entry. Just what is that? A reminder to purchase two packages of processed meat, or might the cryptic note mean two separate animal proteins are required for a recipe or special event?

The question arises, too, as to just how many people contributed to creating the list. The curved Es present in “Towel Paper” and “Sweet Relish” don’t match the block-style Es in “Bagel,” “Cereal” and “2 Meats.”

It’s up to you, the discoverer of this private message, to decide. This is especially true as these anonymous lists often continue occupying your thoughts long after you’ve left the grocery, perhaps leaving your own list behind for the next shopper to contemplate.