I went to the grocery store with one objective in mind: to buy a jar of peanut butter. Little did I know that buying peanut butter in this country is an art of the highly mature American consumer. Or so I'd like to think.
HALF the aisle was a monstrous display of peanut butter - crunchy, smooth, reduced fat, salted, unsalted, maple syrup infused, premixed with jelly, organic, not organic, skippy, Jif, Peter Pan, Martha's, pre-swirled with chocolate, and even ... crush it yourself!
I stared at the plethora of peanut butter, examined a few jars of the pre-swirled stuff (amazing!!), paced up and down the pb&j aisle a few more times, then, naturally, pulled out my camera, took a picture, and promptly fled the grocery store.
Mission peanut butter failed.