The imperfections are what I love best about my grocery store.
It's hard to see the faded parking lot lines, but I assume I'm in a spot based on the spacing of the other cars. It's raining and smoke is rising from a group of people huddled outside the front door of the store. An alarming sight if you don't see the "hot dog fundraiser" sign as the group douses mystery meat slathered in classic yellow mustard. I smile, politely pass on a dog, and the doors open to my grocery store.
What I Look For In A Grocery Store:
- No dirty looks when I show up in my pajamas.
- I want the cashier to share some insights about how they're frustrated with their star manager. Grocery store gossip can put US Magazine to shame.
- I want to bag my own groceries. Not because I'm good at it, but because I feel awkward standing there while someone else does it. Should I help? Would I get in the way? This is too much for my social awkwardness to handle.
- I want the employees to be dressed comfortably and not forced to wear white dress shirts.
I pick my shopping cart and pull the assorted trash out pretending that there wasn't a dirty tissue in there. When rolling, it slightly leans to the left, but it's better than the inevitable broken wheel. Deflating graduation balloons adorn a beverage display. I think oddly placed deflating balloons might be the design theme of this place and I love it.
As I zig zag aimlessly through the aisles I realize my shopping trip has synced up with another shopper. I see this person in every aisle. I immediatly get paranoid that they think I'm following them. Person, I wasn't following you. I peruse the half stocked shelves with brand loyalty only to anything with a sale price.
Then....What the hell are these? One dollar for these wannabe Slurps. Sign me up. I'm certain after drinking this your mouth will look like you brushed your teeth with red markers.