susan_foster: I love that handle, even if it’s your real name. Am I being whooshed?
It’s almost impossible to shop there when it’s crowded because the place is tiny, the aisles are narrow and no one ever really knows how to control the 4-wheel steering on those miniature carts. The other thing is nobody seems to be in a hurry to get out of there.
I really like the way the place feels. Of course, how I grew up might have something to do with that.
During my childhood, my family and I spent a lot of time in a handful of co-ops, three universities, an ashram and two reservations. The only way to get our “whole food” (unless the place provided communal meals) was to shop in the local “health-food store.” Those places were great – greengrocers who’d been busted out by the big chains, I suspect – where a kid could pick through the dried beans and chew on a sample chunk of fresh beeswax. In those days, every third person was barefoot and once you made it to the checkout, you might have ended up nose-to-trunk with a statue of Ganesh whilst pondering a poster of Baby Krishna and his porridge. Occasionally, a photo of Maharishi would be tastefully arranged somewhere on the cash register.
Somebody in the store was always happy to stop and rap about food or life or the environment. We’d pass words like namaste or phrases like Jai Guru Dev as we turned to get back to our shopping. In the early 70s, Spock’s “Live Long and Prosper” Hand Gesture™ became a common greeting.
Those were some good times.
In contrast, Trader Joe’s is fast-paced, clean and modern. But spend some time in there and you’ll encounter lots of people interacting and digging what they’re doing, whether they’re picking up some scallops and a bottle of wine, or stocking the Produce Section. It’s not for everybody, and I’ll level with you, behind the potted Oncidiums and the Pirate’s Booty, there’s a lot of weird food in there. The thing is, I can’t seem to recall ever having such a pleasant time in a supermarket.
To Revtim, same subject: the Two Buck Chuck Shiraz smells a little like a sweatsock and tastes a touch too tangy. It’s also quite warm, almost like a cognac! (Weird.) Next time, I’ll snag me a Cabernet. For science. Or something.
Sorry, dutchboy208, I’ve already been through his pockets. That guy was as skint as the day is long.
(Nice to meet you, by the way.)