There comes a time in every man's life when he is sent out alone. This happened to me a couple of days ago when I ventured into a local supermarket. At the time I thought this would be a very mundane experience. I now realize that I was very wrong.

Basically I am a big person who likes to do things in a big way. The store looked innocent enough. God knows it was big enough. There was plenty of parking with easy access into the store. Walking through the doors I was surprised to see a lot of people. This didn't bother me because if I could survive a seventh inning stretch at Fenway Park I could survive anything.

I grabbed hold of the first cart I could find and was amazed by its size. My God, I could fit most of my earthly belongings in this van that masqueraded as a shopping cart. Imagining what I must have looked like, I could only think of Lily Tomlin playing the part of a five-year-old sitting in an oversized rocking chair. I still believe that if my wife had been with me she could have sat in the baby seat on the front of the cart.

The first aisle I approached was the one displaying the produce. It had every type of vegetable I knew and a few I hadn't imagined existed. Grabbing only the vegetables I remembered seeing in my refrigerator and could pronounce I was surprised by a sudden burst of cold water flowing from the top of the refrigerator case. At first, I though some sort of water line had broken. An older, almost hysterically giggling woman came to my aid, explaining that a spray system is used to keep the vegetables looking fresh

Of course, I couldn't quite understand how watering carrots in plastic bags could help them stay fresher. Going down the vegetable case I noticed every time I reached for something in the back of the case, water sprayed. I wonder if the mirrors lining the back of the case were one-way and a store manager was in back having the time of his life.

My next stop was the fruit department. Like in the vegetable area there were fruits I never knew existed. There were miniature bananas and things that looked more like roots than fruits.

The apple section surprised me the most with at least 15 different varieties of apple in neatly formed piles. Some were so perfect in color and shape they looked more like the waxed replicas than the real thing. I later discovered the more perfect the apples looked, the more like wax they tasted.

The delicatessen area was my next stop. Originally from New York City, I figured this would be easy. I took a number and waited my turn.

When called on, I confidently ordered one pound of turkey. The person behind the counter hesitated a few seconds and asked me what type of turkey I wanted. There are different types?

After I stared blankly at the girl for a few seconds she broke my stupor by explaining turkey could be in the form of pastrami, ham, bologna, or hot dogs. Hot dogs? She asked if I wanted just turkey.

"Yes!" I answered hoping the questions would come to an end. Well, she continued, how would you like it cut and what calorie variety would you like? "Yes", I answered again noticing that the girl behind the counter just sighed and cut the amount I ordered. Or, at least, I think I ordered.

When she came back she asked if I wanted something else. Quickly I ordered the one thing I knew she would understand. "One pound of American cheese!" I bellowed hoping all who surrounded me might understand I knew what I was doing. The girl's face turned blank as she asked me what type and color I wanted. "Yes", was the only answer I could give her hoping this experience would soon come to an end.

Even the milk and egg departments necessitated decisions. I never realized milk came in not only different sizes but also different levels of fat. The egg department also called for size and color decisions. The bread aisle was the longest and with the most varieties. Like milk, the breads came in varying degrees of calories per slice, type, size, and even color. The frozen food department reminded me of my trips to museums displaying colorful works of art behind large glass cases.

During the rest of my quest through this super of supermarkets I found myself astonished by how many variations of normal groceries existed. Most of the time I couldn't make up my mind so I either didn't buy anything or bought them all. I finally arrived at the last aisle and noticed I had completely filled my tractor-trailer-sized cart.

Arriving at the check out counter I saw an assembly line that would have made Henry Ford jealous. Within minutes I was buzzed and beeped through a type of laser computer that registered my purchases. I only wished it took a bit longer so I could read about every strange occurrence that ever occurred on the planet through the headlines of the many newspapers and magazines that entertained the shopper while he or she was waiting to leave. I never knew that Martians originally came from Arizona.

Two bag boys placed my groceries in another giant cart. I was escorted from the store within minutes. It was almost as though they wanted me to leave.

Before I left, I was given a giant receipt that told me not only the prices of my groceries but also exactly what I had bought. The number on the bottom of the receipt shocked me the most; $295.96. Driving home I came to a rude awakening. I had just spent more for groceries than I paid for the mortgage on my first home.