The girls head out to the truck and drive to the local grocery store, which seems to be about the size of your average convenience store. Old toothless men gawk. Paris consults the shopping list and says that they only have fifty dollars to spend. Nicole suggests that they start at the top of the list. Paris saunters up to the meat counter. That girl has no ass. Seriously. My two-year-old nephew has a bigger ass than that, even without a diaper on. Paris asks for pigs' feet. Production clearly made up this shopping list with the grossest items they could imagine. Paris finds the jars of pigs' feet and says that she's going to barf. They make their way through the store and toss items into the cart. Nicole retches over a can of SPAM. Nicole reads that they are supposed to buy generic bottled water, and she doesn't know what "generic" means. I don't buy it. We used to use the term "generic" to mean "lame" when I was in fifth grade, like "Her jeans are so generic." Paris thinks that the ground beef looks disgusting, because it's been sitting there for a week. She's got a point. It's all brown, instead of pink, which is usually a sign that it's not fit for consumption. Paris comments, "This is the shittiest market." Paris digs a loaf of bread out of the bottom of the cart and swaps it for a different kind. How smart do you have to be to figure out that things like bread or chips go on the top of the canned food? Apparently, smarter than Paris or Nicole. Of course, I consider myself quite an artist when it comes to arranging groceries in the cart, and on the conveyer belt. I always keep my meat away from my soap, and all of the cold or frozen foods go together. I am seriously sixty-five years old.
Paris and Nicole head to the checkout, where they discover that their total is $65.54. Oops. They giggle. I'm surprised they're not flirting with the cashier. He's kind of cute. Nicole explains that they are a little short on cash. Nicole asks if they can just have the stuff, and the cashier laughs, "No, you can't just have it! It's not a soup kitchen!" This is hardly as poignant as when Debra Winger couldn't pay for her groceries in Terms of Endearment and then her youngest son offered to put back his candy bar. The cashier asks what they don't need. They start pulling items back out of the bags. Paris says they don't need apple juice. Nicole asks if it was on the list, and Paris says that she just wants it.
I guess they got things straightened out, because Paris is now throwing bags into the back of the truck with all of her might. Easy! You'll bruise the fruit! See? I'm sixty-five. Nicole asks where Paris got the cart, and Paris says that she got it in the store. Paris tosses in the eggs, and they back out. Nicole says that she couldn't believe that the cashier wouldn't just give them the food, and then asks what a soup kitchen is. I have to believe that she knows that one. Don't all rich people make their kids volunteer at soup kitchens on Thanksgiving? I think Steve Sanders did that once.