It took me many weeks of schlepping bags of heavy groceries from the market to my apartment before I realized that I was the only one on the planet doing it. Most of the other shoppers had either cute little upright metal carts to hold their stuff, or they made their kids pull the urban equivalent of a radio flyer wagon.

And then there were the shoppers, like me, who after weeks of schlepping bags of heavy groceries, finally realized what Domino’s Pizza learned years ago: If it can be delivered, deliver it.

Newly wise to the ways of the city folk, I downloaded an app that would allow me to pick out all my groceries online and then choose a delivery window for their arrival. I was thrilled to find I could get everything from kumquats to shish kebabs delivered, that day, to my door, without me having to ever leave the building.

It seemed very straightforward and as I checked off the various produce I wanted, I clicked on a picture of a bunch of bananas and selected the box for one.

Two hours later, as I unpacked the groceries, I looked through the bags and found one banana.

One. Just one. One lone banana.

Shaking my head, I went back and checked my order. Next to the picture of a bunch of bananas, there was the number one.

Annoyed that my order was incomplete, I called customer service.

“Hi, this is Tracy Beckerman. I just ordered groceries from you guys and I’m missing part of my order.”

“What item is missing?” asked a cheerful voice.

“I ordered a bunch of bananas and I only got one.

“Just one banana?” she said.

“Yes, just one.”

“Okay, Ma’am, let me check that order.”

A moment went by and then she returned to the phone.

“You only ordered one banana, Ma’am.”

“No, I ordered a bunch of bananas,” I protested.

“When you selected one, it was for one banana. Not one bunch of bananas,” she explained slowly, as though I were somehow not only banana challenged, but a banana idiot, as well.

“But there was a picture of a bunch of bananas,” I said.

“Yes, that’s to show you the bananas in their natural state.”

“What is this, a National Geographic special?” I said. “It’s misleading.”

“Well, Ma’am, we’ve never had any other complaints. Most people understand when they select one banana, they get one banana. Would you like to order more bananas?”

I made a face at the phone. I was pretty sure I had left my mortal existence and was trapped in some kind of banana purgatory.

“Okay, fine,” I said. “I want five more bananas.” I wondered if I was indeed ordering five bananas or if she was mistaken and an entire banana tree was going to be delivered to my apartment. I was confident having a banana tree in my apartment wasn’t in my lease, and if my landlord found out, he’d go bananas.

“Okay, you’re all set,” she said. “Is there anything else you’d like?”

“Yes. I’d like to order one grape,” I said.

“You mean one bunch of grapes?”

“No. Just one grape,” I said. “But please send it in its natural state.”

For more Lost in Suburbia, follow Tracy on Facebook at www.facebook.com/LostinSuburbiaFanPage and on Twitter at @TracyBeckerman.