Everybody has their one thing. For some, it’s the white bean hummus. For others, it’s the smoked trout. But for me, it’s all about getting the overpowering sensation that I’m going to die!

Every time I walk in I simply must pick up the feeling that everybody around me wishes me harm. Once you’ve gotten pinned into the frozen food aisle by shopping carts while its owners savagely reach over you to pick up bags of mandarin chicken and garlic naan, there’s no going back.

I just love how the dizziness compliments the rapid heartbeat so it feels like you’re having a heart attack.

What can I say? I’m an addict!

Sure, you can find a similar experience at other grocery stores, but nothing compares to the quality and price of a Trader Joe’s panic attack. Yeah, I can get shortness of breath and a profound sense of despair at Whole Foods, but I’ll also be paying double for it. No thank you!

Even when I’m quickly running in on a Friday after work to pick up a bottle of wine, I find myself wandering over to the dried fruit and nuts section so I can hyperventilate around deplorable children who wreak havoc mere feet from their preoccupied parents.

Talk about a guilty pleasure, am I right!?

You’d think I’d eventually grow tired of it, but I never do. I could go there seven days in a row and still feel compelled to have a wave of impending doom rush over me while my cashier tries desperately to engage me in small talk.

I can taste it now… that cold metallic flavor flooding my mouth while the voice of the cashier complimenting my grocery choices falls mute. I hear nothing but a soft ringing tone. My throat swells up as I sense the people behind me shooting me dirty looks. Suddenly, the ringing crescendos. It’s coming from the cashier. He’s ringing the bell beside him. What in the hell is he summoning? Who knows, but whatever it is it can’t be good…

Great, now my mouth is watering!

If you’ll excuse me, it’s 6 PM on a day before a huge projected snowstorm so I’m going to take advantage of some primo anxiety time.

Spencer Ham is a writer for You Don’t Know Jack. His Twitter handle is @spencerham.

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