Publix Etiquette Fails: 9 Rude Things Some Floridians Just Can’t Stop Doing

Ask a Floridian about their Publix and stand back. They’ll tell you the best sub, the location with the easy parking, the exact day the BOGO cycle flips.

But nothing gets a Floridian going like bad manners three feet from the deli counter.

You know the type. You might even be related to one of them.

Here are some of the rude things that some Floridians just can’t seem to stop doing at Publix.

Clearing the Whole BOGO Shelf

Buy-one-get-one is a way of life in Florida. You build your whole grocery purchase around it.

Unlike in other states, BOGOs at Publix stores in Florida mean you have to buy two products to get the deal. There’s no grabbing one at half price.

That hasn’t stopped some folks from sweeping an entire shelf of BOGO mac and cheese into their cart like a hurricane’s coming.

Leave a few boxes for the rest of us.

Marie down the street wanted that pasta too.

Ordering Twelve Subs at the Noon Rush

The Pub Sub is a Florida love language. The chicken tender sub on sale is the closest thing this state has to a holiday.

So, nobody blames you for wanting one.

But rolling up to the deli at noon and ordering twelve subs, each with custom toppings, while a line of hungry folks stacks up behind you?

That’s a rude move.

Call ahead for an order that big. The deli has a phone, and your fellow Floridians have lunch breaks.

Snagging a Deli Number and Disappearing

The little ticket machine at the deli runs on an honor system.

You pull a number, you stick around, you listen for it.

What you don’t do is pull number 47, wander off to the far end of the store, and come strolling back three numbers later, expecting them to wait.

Now the staff is calling your number to nobody. The line stalls.

Everyone behind you is doing the math on whether to speak up or just let it slide.

By the time you wander back, the deli lady has moved on, and you’re starting the whole wait over again or making a fuss about it.

Leaving Your Cart in the Parking Lot

Florida parking lots in the summer hit temperatures that could cook an egg on the asphalt, so it’s already an unpleasant experience.

Leaving your cart loose instead of walking it to the corral just makes things worse.

It often rolls, sometimes straight into someone’s car door.

The corral is right there.

You’ve seen it: The water aisle, empty. People load their cars with forty cases like Publix will never restock.

Hurricane prep is smart.

Grabbing six months of bottled water for a storm that’s still a week out in the Atlantic isn’t.

Take what your family needs. The retiree behind you on a fixed income needs water, too.

Treating the Aisle Like Sunday Social Hour

Running into an old friend at Publix is one of the joys of small-town Florida living. Half the reason snowbird season feels like a reunion.

By all means, catch up.

Ask about the grandkids. Compare notes on the new neighbors.

Just push your carts to the side first.

Two carts parked nose to nose turn the cereal aisle into a roadblock, and the gentleman trying to reach the Raisin Bran is too polite to say anything.

Camping Out in the Air Conditioning

In August, Publix’s air conditioning feels like pure relief. The walk from your car already soaked your shirt through.

So, yes, the cool air is tempting.

Linger a minute by the floral section and catch your breath.

But setting up camp for an hour, blocking the good end-cap, fanning yourself while folks are trying to reach their groceries?

That’s pushing it.

Shop your list, enjoy the chill, and let the next overheated Floridian have a turn by the open freezer case.

Stealing the Covered Pickup Spot in a Downpour

Florida rain doesn’t mess around. One minute it’s sunny, the next it’s a wall of water that soaks you to the bone in seconds.

Which is why people eye that covered curbside pickup spot like prime real estate.

But that overhang is for the folks picking up their online orders.

Parking there to dodge the rain while you run in for milk leaves a real pickup customer stuck in the storm.

Pop open your umbrella and make the dash.

You’re from Florida. You’ve survived worse than a little afternoon shower.

Diving Into the Express Lane With a Loaded Cart

The express lane has a number on the sign for a reason.

Ten items or less. Maybe fifteen if the location is feeling generous.

That number is a promise to everyone holding a gallon of milk and a lottery ticket that they’ll be out the door fast.

So when you wheel up with a cart stacked to the handle, you can feel the whole line deflate behind you.

The fella with one carton of eggs lets out a sigh you can hear two registers over.

Read the sign. Count your items.

The regular lanes are open, and the cashier there won’t give your cart the side-eye.

The Flip Side: What Floridians Get Right

For all the gripes, plenty of Floridians treat their Publix like a good neighbor.

You hold the door. You let the mom with the toddler go ahead. You tell the new cashier they’re doing great.

That’s the real Publix spirit. The bad behavior just stands out because, well, that’s what bad behavior does.