Hook-up in Aisle 7?

Not to beat a dead Fogelberg, but I was listening to holiday music on the radio today and after suffering through "The Christmas Shoes" - Songwriter: "What about a Christmas song about a kid buying his terminally ill mother a pair of shoes?" Record label: "FanTAStic!" Mean Mommy: "Meh." - I was repaid for my tenacity (read: radio station surfing-related laziness) with The Waitresses' hit "Christmas Wrapping". I thought to myself as the song ended, "What the hell is it with song writers and people meeting up in grocery stores on Christmas Eve?"

I have read in the women's mags that the grocery store, no matter the date, is a great place to meet other single people, I think it's got to be overrated. My local A&P is not the best example as it is patronized by harried, stay at home mothers and old ladies. I guess if you want to meet someone looking for child and/or eldercare, though, it's like shooting fish in barrell. Hot thirty-somethings* (because if you've downgraded to looking for love among the oft-mentioned frozen foods you're obviously no rookie) - not so much.

On the male front, in the nano-second I was "single" after college (a term which was technically true, since we weren't married yet, which Hubby disputes. To see it his way, I haven't been single since I was seventeen then.), I didn't notice too many guys lingering over the produce at my local grocery. Most guys I knew subsisted primarily on a diet of pizza and Kraft Mac 'n Cheese pilfered from their parents' pantries on weekend trips home to do laundry. Sadly, this continued into their thirties for most of them.

To my single readers, please feel free to fill me in on this alleged hot-bed of dating action, perhaps I'm wrong about all of this and StopnShop should be running commercials along the lines of those nauseating eHarmony ones showing happy couples with captions that read "Met in Dairy September 2002". Until I am told otherwise though, I will view this as the songwriter's tool and urban myth I belive it is.

*Myself with my Yankee hat, yoga pants and graham cracker/saliva-paste covered fleece, obviously, not included.