Okay, people, pardon my français, but sh*t just got real. And it was not pretty.
For the past two-plus years, we’ve all been dealing with various shortages due to lingering supply chain/production problems. Compared to parents desperately seeking baby formula, my frustrations have been next to nothing. Let’s face it, my biggest inconveniences have been the occasional lack of arborio rice and Skinny Girl salad dressing. Until last week. That’s when this shortage issue hit me right in the face, or more precisely, in the gut.
As a woman of a certain, ahem, mature age, I’m not ashamed to say I enjoy the pleasure of a “regular” nightcap. For me, nothing says “day is done” quite like an eight-ounce glass of Orange Metamucil; goes down easily and helps things come out even more easily.
Aware my powdered cocktail mix was running low, I made what I thought would be a quick stop at my favorite big box store to replenish my supply. As I rounded the corner of the digestive health aisle, I instinctively reached out to grab a container from its customary second-shelf location, but unexpectedly grabbed only air . . . because that’s all that was on the shelf, air. Or on any of the other three shelves, for that matter.
How very odd, I thought, as I checked to confirm I was in the right aisle. Knowing this store was currently short-staffed, I simply wrote off the empty shelves to a restocking lag and headed down the highway to a competitor.
Imagine my shock and dismay when the second big box was also a bust. Not a powder, pill, or potion to be found, save one dust-covered package of God-knows-what labeled, “Bob’s Bowel Booster.” (Talk about your off brands!) I realize beggars can’t be choosers, but I decided I’d rather down a shot of motor oil than take a chance with what Bob was peddling.
Just then, I was able to snag a pharmacy associate and ask what was going on. It turned out the problem wasn’t a lack of employees to restock the shelves, but a lack of stock itself. There was, she informed me, a fiber laxative shortage. Yes, it’s a thing. (No wonder I’ve seen so many cranky people lately.) Anyway, the associate explained most stores and pharmacies were in the same boat.
“The supply chain is blocked,” she concluded, palms up.
I told her that wasn’t the only thing that would be blocked if I didn’t find some cocktail mix somewhere. Sensing my desperation, she suggested one particular drug store that might have some remaining stock, so I made my way there, post haste.
Upon arrival, I raced to the back of the store and found a single container of my beloved Metamucil, shining like a beacon atop the otherwise empty shelves. I immediately snatched it up. Clutching my treasure to my chest, I made a beeline to the register, whereupon I nearly fainted at the cost, $27.39! I’d grabbed it so hurriedly I’d failed to notice this was not my garden variety $13.99 Metamucil, baby; this stuff was top shelf, in more than just its location. It said so right on the front, Metamucil PREMIUM BLEND. Apparently, some psyllium is more equal (and certainly more expensive) than others. Who knew? But honestly, I would have bought it no matter the cost, even if I’d had to finance it over 10 years.
And so, having enjoyed my ritual nightcap for the past week, I’m happy to report that sh*t did indeed get real, and I’ve never felt better about it.