Thursday, August 24, 2006

this shit would never be tolerated in a metropolis...

Sometimes, the most mundane tasks prove the most challenging. On my way to work this morning, I stopped at Whole Foods in desperate need of cantaloupe. Mill Valley’s Whole Foods provides their patrons with a dozen parking spaces right by the front door, the very front door where trophy wives congregate with their yoga mats and dreadful children who rub their sticky fingers all over the fruit samples. These godless freaks also have absolutely no problem carrying on detailed conversations smack dab in the middle of empty parking spaces. There I sat, emitting pollution waiting for Trixie to finish her conversation with Bitsey, no doubt discussing how much they hate their decorators and how you just can’t find good help these days, what with the stringent border patrol. Rhonda the Honda was literally breathing down their tan, foodless necks and on they chatted, not paying me the slightest bit of attention. Finally, and this is after like, 8 whole minutes, I whipped off my sunglasses, rolled down my window and screamed, “Um, hi. I need to park my car. Preferably today.”
They rolled their eyes and took several delicate steps sideways, one of them actually still wearing Uggs. I was hoping one of their spawn would fall beneath my wheels and I’d do the world a favor by ridding us of one more emerging shithead, but I guess we’re just not that lucky. Finally inside my mecca of organic produce, I located the pre-sliced, over-priced cantaloupe. I grabbed my container, self-served myself a coffee and got in line…behind Father Time.
Father Time hasn’t been in a grocery store since a Roosevelt was in office and the complex, modern ambiance of Whole Paycheck was too much for him. The idiot cashier made the grave mistake of offering him a Whole Foods organic cotton tree-saving tote bag for a buck fifty.
“I have to pay for my bags!?!?!”
Oh god. Seriously? The cashier, still hocking the damn tote, explained the benefits to bringing your own reusable bag to Whole Foods. Father Time fell into deeper confusion. Sanity had to step in and I was late.
“You don’t have to pay for paper or plastic bags. But if you want, you can buy a bag and use it every time you come, so, in theory, you’re saving the planet.”
“I just want my milk and my eggs in a bag and I want to go home.”
I looked at the cashier. “He doesn’t want a tote bag.”
Finally back at my car, I threw my cantaloupe in the passenger seat and put Rhonda in reverse, only to find a goddamn hippy with a clipboard blocking me in and hassling people to sign up to save the egrets or something.
Seriously. All I wanted was some cubed melon. It literally took me 30 minutes. To buy $4.38 worth of cubed, pre-packaged melon.
Ugh, I curse the suburbs…


Greg said...

Ha! I have had similar experiences at the Market St. Safeway. Once when I stopped in to buy a soda, I had every goof in the world ahead of me paying in pennies. Suicidal Tendencies' song "Institutionalized" came to mind.

I think if you'd run over a gaggle of kids you'd deserve a Nobel Prize. My brother calls such kids "ipods" or "stereos" - loud accessories people get because EVERYONE has one...and they raise them as such.

Spots said...

Ah yes. The Safeway in the middle of the Castro. GayWay.
I was shopping there one night, wandering around the produce section talking to Miss Andy on my cellphone when, exasperated, I explaimed, "Who do you have to blow around here to get a lime?"

Literally, the entire store fell silent...

sfmike said...

Loved your Whole Foods Mill Valley story, and since my cute little old people's Bell Market on Post and Franklin has been closed because of some corporate maneuver, we've started shopping at GayWay on Market. It's quite terrifying on all kinds of levels, so thank you for a line that will temporarily silence the crazy crowd, "Who do you have to blow around here...?"

greg Dewar said...

HA! I love that line. I'll have to use that sometime.