7 grocery store habits that quietly reveal someone is self-absorbed

We don’t often think of the grocery store as a place that reveals much about who we are.

It’s just errands, right? A weekly checklist of bananas, oat milk, and that one brand of pasta sauce you swear by.

But here’s the thing: how someone behaves in those aisles can say a lot about them.

After all, our habits show up everywhere, even between the produce section and the checkout lane.

Over the years, I’ve noticed that some behaviors at the grocery store aren’t just about forgetfulness or impatience.

Sometimes, they’re small but telling signs of a self-absorbed mindset.

Let’s unpack a few of those, shall we?

1) Leaving carts wherever they please

You’ve seen it: the person who finishes loading their groceries into the car and then just shoves the cart into a nearby parking space.

Maybe they give it a lazy nudge toward the cart corral, maybe not.

Here’s what this small act says: “My convenience matters more than the next person’s.”

It’s a simple courtesy to put your cart back. But when someone doesn’t, they’re assuming someone else will clean up their mess, an employee, a stranger, anyone but them.

I once saw a teenager walk half a parking lot just to return a cart someone else had left blocking a space.

It made me think about how awareness of others doesn’t cost us anything, yet it adds up to a lot in how we move through the world.

So next time you see a stray cart, ask yourself: do I make life easier or harder for the people around me?

2) Blocking aisles without noticing

We’ve all been there. You’re trying to grab some tofu or cereal, and someone’s cart is perfectly positioned sideways in the middle of the aisle.

They’re staring at the shelves, totally oblivious that you (and three other people) are trying to pass.

It’s rarely malicious, but it’s a sign of something deeper, a lack of spatial and social awareness.

People who are tuned into others tend to scan their surroundings, move aside, or at least acknowledge when they’re in someone’s way.

People who aren’t act like the aisle is their personal pantry.

I remember catching myself doing this once, lost in thought, blocking the spice section while debating between smoked or regular paprika.

When a woman gently said, “Excuse me,” I realized I’d been standing there for over a minute. I apologized, smiled, and moved aside.

Moments like that remind me: exercising mindfulness doesn’t just happen on yoga mats. It happens in the frozen food section, too.

3) Ignoring employees’ efforts

Watch how someone treats the cashier or the stock clerk, and you’ll learn more about them than you might from a whole conversation.

The self-absorbed shopper sees store employees as part of the background, nameless, invisible, there to serve them.

They might talk on their phone during checkout, never make eye contact, or toss money onto the counter without so much as a “thanks.”

But the truth is, those few seconds of human acknowledgment can mean a lot.

I volunteer at a local farmers’ market on weekends, and even there, I notice who looks you in the eye, who asks questions, and who doesn’t see you at all. The difference isn’t subtle.

Being kind to people who don’t have to impress you, that’s emotional maturity in action.

4) Treating the store like a personal playground

Some folks seem to forget that grocery stores are shared spaces, not obstacle courses.

They’ll sample fruit without paying, open a bag of chips mid-shop, or let their kids run wild down the aisles.

It’s that “rules don’t apply to me” mindset, the hallmark of self-centeredness.

Now, I get it. Grocery shopping isn’t thrilling. It’s mundane, repetitive, sometimes even stressful.

But when people act like their experience trumps everyone else’s, they’re showing how little they value the shared social contract that keeps public spaces pleasant.

I once saw a man open a soda can before reaching the checkout.

When the cashier politely reminded him he needed to pay first, he rolled his eyes and muttered something about “ridiculous rules.”

It wasn’t the end of the world, but it said everything about how he viewed the people around him, as obstacles, not equals.

5) Hogging the self-checkout

Here’s a subtle one that gets overlooked: the shopper who brings an overflowing cart to the self-checkout line, even when there’s a perfectly good full-service lane open nearby.

Self-checkout was designed for speed, for a few items, not a full week’s worth of groceries.

Yet some people treat it like their personal register, scanning 30 items while the rest of us clutch our oat milk and hummus, silently waiting.

What’s revealing isn’t the act itself, it’s the entitlement behind it. It’s the belief that one’s own efficiency matters more than collective convenience.

I once asked a store clerk about this, and she sighed, “You’d be surprised how many people think they’re faster than we are.”

It’s a small example, but it mirrors something bigger: when people consistently overestimate their importance, they tend to underestimate their impact.

6) Talking loudly on the phone the entire time

We live in an age where boundaries are blurred by technology.

But there’s something almost theatrical about the person having a full-volume conversation on speaker while standing in the produce aisle.

They’ll discuss private details, business deals, even arguments, completely indifferent to the dozen people around them.

It’s not the call itself that’s the issue. It’s the lack of awareness that others might not want to be part of it.

This reminds me of when I used to take work calls as a financial analyst, racing through grocery stores between meetings.

I cringe thinking about how I must have looked, talking numbers over the hum of freezers. Eventually, I started leaving my phone in my bag.

The world didn’t end, and I noticed I was actually present again.

If someone can’t be alone with their own thoughts long enough to buy apples, it might be less about being busy and more about needing an audience.

7) Taking credit or cutting in line

This one’s the clearest giveaway.

Maybe it’s the person who slips ahead in line when a new register opens, pretending not to notice the people who were there first.

Or the shopper who demands special treatment because they “just have a few items,” even though everyone else does too.

These small acts of entitlement can seem harmless, but they’re rooted in the same mentality that drives bigger forms of selfishness: my time matters more than yours.

I once saw a woman cut in front of an elderly man at the checkout because, as she put it, “I’m in a hurry.” The man simply smiled and said, “So am I.”

It was such a simple, human reminder that everyone has somewhere to be, something to do, someone waiting.

When we forget that, we lose a bit of our humanity in the process.

A quiet mirror of character

Grocery stores are microcosms of everyday life. The habits we display there, patience, awareness, empathy, or lack thereof, echo how we show up everywhere else.

And while none of these behaviors alone make someone a terrible person, they do reflect patterns worth noticing.

Are we aware of others’ needs, or just our own?
Do we make the small spaces we share a little easier, or a little harder for others?

Those questions might seem trivial, but they form the foundation of emotional intelligence, the ability to consider the world beyond our immediate wants.

Final thoughts

Next time you’re at the grocery store, pay attention to the small ways people move, pause, and interact.

You’ll see everything from kindness to carelessness, mindfulness to mild chaos.

And maybe, just maybe, you’ll catch yourself in one of these patterns too. I know I have.

Growth doesn’t always come from grand self-reflection retreats or mindfulness workshops.

Sometimes it starts in aisle seven, when you realize the world isn’t revolving around your cart.

It’s the little acts, returning that cart, noticing someone behind you, saying thank you to the cashier, that quietly define who we are.

Because being aware of others, even in the most ordinary moments, is one of the clearest signs that we’re growing not just as shoppers, but as humans.