Kroger used to be my happy place.

Imagine a store that only sells things you like and need. You might expect that with such a vast array of options you might suffer choice paralysis, except that you'd found a way to make it into an entertaining game. Sure, there’s a dozen cereals your family will eat that meet your nutritional standards, but which one has the best deal today? My flexibility became a superpower, and I could scan the shelves for the deepest discounts. Like the featured ingredient on Iron Chef, whatever item couldn’t be sold for half price to anyone else became the centerpiece of my daily cooking challenge.

Like a primitive hunter/gatherer whose success was influenced by the season, weather, or time of day, my consumption and success was also a way to be in touch with my environment. While certain produce epitomized this natural rhythm (asparagus, squash, apples), greater windfalls came from the mismatched expectations between producers and consumers. The deepest discounts were often products that didn’t sell quick enough at full price. Me, and my ilk could be counted on to to clean up when whomever ordered products misjudged the appetites of the regulars. At my house we eat fondue and french onion soup every month, not because because the listed shelf-life for Gruyere cheese is artificially low, and the normal price is out of reach for folks who plan their meals first, and shop second. The coffee I drink doesn’t move off the shelves for $12 a bag, so I get it for $6 a bag.

Anyway, it’s done now. I’ll have to find new hunting grounds. Kroger must have realized us opportunistic hunters existed and that we were somehow beating the system, so it found a way to make it sufficiently burdensome so that we’ll scurry somewhere else. QR codes now sit like locks in front of all the good deals. For each item that receives the “we gotta get rid of this soon” level of discounts, one now has to get an app, load the app, sign into the app, scan a qr code, sign into the website (they might not have lost me if they QR scanner worked within the app rather than taking me to the website after I’d already logged into the app), then clip the coupon. You young’uns will scoff: “get with the times boomer!”. Sure, I can do it. Sure, it only adds a little bit of time for each item. But shopping is no longer fun anymore. What used to make me happy (finding a good deal and simultaneously getting to try a new product) now makes me sad. Every moment that used to bring joy, now brings disappointment as I either have to perform an absurd and tedious ritual, or miss out on an opportunity.

So I’ll find new hunting grounds. Perhaps I can bag the elusive Food Lion. I’ll miss the friendly faces at Kroger, many of whom I’ve seen regularly for over a decade. I’ll miss the discount section in the corner– a virtual treasure trove of possibilities. But like so many other pleasures in life, they’ve ruined it for me. Maybe new young people will find joy in this change. Perhaps it’ll be the same people who are happy to click the keyfob twice to unlock the back door, and who think it’s totally an improvement to have to click “accept cookies” every time they go to a new web site.

I hear you loud and clear, no more Krogering for me.