10 Grocery Store Etiquette Debates That Divide Georgia Shoppers

Think good grocery store manners are obvious?

They aren’t.

One shopper’s plain courtesy is another shopper’s pet peeve, and Georgia checkout lines prove it from Savannah to the Perimeter.

These are the grocery store debates Georgians can’t seem to settle.

Returning the Cart

Georgia shoppers turned the cart corral into a character test.

Return your buggy, and you pass.

Leave it stranded across the Kroger parking lot, and the internet’s shopping cart theory says you’ve failed.

One camp calls returning it basic Southern manners.

The other camp shrugs and points at the teenager whose whole job is rounding up carts in the July heat.

Neither side budges.

Then a stray cart rolls down a sloped Marietta parking lot into somebody’s Tahoe, and the argument starts over.

Those runaway buggies cost stores tens of millions of dollars a year to replace.

Express Lane Math

The express lane sparks arguments in Georgia that outlast the receipt.

A sign says 10 items, and up rolls a buggy with 18.

Is a bunch of grapes one item or forty?

Does a 12-pack of Cheerwine count as one, or twelve?

Nobody agrees.

Studies show most shoppers blow past the posted limit anyway, which is part of why that lane still crawls.

The shopper behind you tallies every box you set down on the belt.

Meanwhile, the over-the-limit shopper swears the express line at Ingles moves faster anyway.

And a retired English teacher two spots back mutters that the sign should say “fewer,” not “less.”

Waving Someone Ahead

Waving someone ahead turns a polite Georgian into a traffic jam.

You’ve got a loaded buggy.

The man behind you holds a gallon of milk and a Powerball ticket.

Wave him through, and you’re a Southern gentleman.

Do it while six carts stack up behind you both, and you’ve jammed up the whole Publix.

Some Georgians wave everybody on. Others maintain that the line is the line.

The milk-and-lottery man just wants out before his milk goes warm.

Blocking the Aisle

Nothing tests Georgia patience like a blocked grocery aisle.

One buggy hugs the left, another hugs the right, and two neighbors catch up on the grandkids dead center.

Behind them, a pileup builds at the Ingles.

Do you say excuse me? Or do you wait it out, too polite to interrupt?

You wait.

The chatters figure the aisle’s plenty wide.

Meanwhile, the stuck shopper watches the frozen pizzas defrost in their cart.

Self-Checkout or Cashier

Self-checkout splits Georgia shoppers into two stubborn camps.

Half of them love scanning their own Vidalia onions with nobody hovering.

The other half won’t touch the machines.

They’d rather wait for a cashier who bags it right and asks how your day’s going.

Their call.

Self-checkout fans point at the shorter line.

The cashier loyalists point at the jobs those lanes replaced, and at that maddening unexpected item in the bagging area.

Kids in the Cart

Kids in the cart start a fight every Georgia parent knows by heart.

One toddler rides buckled in the seat, no problem.

Another stands up in the basket at the Kroger while Dad hunts for the Honey Nut Cheerios.

Grandparents gasp.

Parents shrug.

The safety camp brings up tipped buggies and trips to the emergency room.

Let-them-ride parents swear they stood in that basket back in 1985 and turned out fine.

Sampling the Grapes

Sampling grapes divides the Georgia produce aisle like nothing else.

You pop one grape at Publix to test whether the bunch runs sweet or sour.

Harmless, says half the state.

Shoplifting, says the other half.

Technically, you’re eating merchandise you haven’t paid for yet. Most stores tolerate it, though their policy technically says otherwise.

Rule-followers won’t eat a thing until it clears the scanner.

Ditching Cold Items

Georgia shoppers wage a whole war over ditched groceries.

You grab a tub of Blue Bell, then change your mind by aisle nine.

Do you carry it back to the freezer?

Or set it on a dry shelf between the saltines and the canned corn because that’s where you’re currently standing?

Big difference.

The put-it-back crowd hates watching good ice cream melt into a puddle.

Leave-it folks figure that’s what the Ingles staff is for.

Either way, a warm gallon of milk parked by the batteries costs the store money.

Chatting Up the Line

Chatting at checkout sparks a slow-burning Georgia debate.

Down here, a cashier asks after your mama and means it.

Some shoppers love it. They’ll swap recipes while the belt sits still.

Others count every second as the line grows behind them.

Tick, tick.

The talkers call it Southern hospitality.

Everyone behind them sees it as holding up the whole Publix line on Peachtree at 6 p.m. on a Friday.

Stacking Coupons

Coupon stacking turns a calm Georgia checkout tense in a hurry.

Georgians get a Publix deal Florida shoppers don’t.

You can buy a single BOGO item at half price instead of hauling home two.

Stack a store coupon and a manufacturer coupon on that half-price Vidalia, and the total drops again.

Behind you, the line eyes the coupon binder coming out.

Here we go.

The couponers earned every cent of that discount.