This week will mark the 236th birthday of America. In case you were wondering, that makes her an old bitch. Not necessarily old in the "geriatric holed up in a nursing home waiting to die" kind of way (though some would make this argument) but old in the "you oughta know better" kind of way. Countries age differently than people, not unlike dogs in this respect but in the opposite direction. America, at 236, is finally like a young adult with young adult problems. Books (tomes, really) have been written on this topic and I will not get into it at this time as it has "been done" practically to death. Think of all those politicians that get elected simply because they've got the loudest voice when condemning the problems plaguing this great nation, on the other hand, timorous me just critiques (same as they) without the desire for political power. You can just get on a soapbox nowadays and gripe and whine until someone elects you to office just so you'll shut up and stop decrying the problems in our great nation.
With this said, America oughta know better when it comes to her grocery stores. The great grocery store has become an American way of life unto itself, it's the bounty of the harvest in an easily digestible format. You can even go to the grocery store and pay for your own groceries (only in certain neighborhoods) with a credit card. Some places actually trust you to PAY for all that stuff in your cart ON YOUR OWN! You can just walk in and without any cash/money, walk out with food aplenty. You're encouraged to pay, but you're monitoring yourself. Who's that honest? Got food stamps? They accept those too, but they're not stamps anymore either, they're on a card. Swipe your card with imaginary money and walk out with real food. If that's not the dream of our founding fathers, I can't imagine what it could possibly be.
Yet, this fine American institution O plenty is the worst experience a "normal person" can ever subject themselves to. There is no rhyme or reason to describe the insanity of the layout of the modern American grocer other than a sinister plot to trick the consumer into purchasing more than they ought to or the deviousness of stupidity and improper planning with the floor design to trick and confuse. You've heard the phrase "birds of a feather, flock together"? Why is it that flour tortillas can be found in not two, but three separate aisles in my local (large chain) grocery store? Why is lime juice not located next to the limes and in two separate places in the store? I get the idea behind placing the "staples" (milk/eggs and such) near the back of the store, to wind customers from the entrance through the innards of the behemoth, but why is there two aisles containing cheeses? Three if you count the specialty cheeses. Why separate the bread from the bread's friends (other bread products)? Why do we need three separate aisles for staple carbohydrates (rice, noodles, wheat based processed uncooked products that ought to fit with its friends)?
The answer is simple and the solution even more so. The answer is because my local grocery store thinks I'm an idiot that doesn't know my major food groups or that different types of junk-food are not actually different types of food. There's a junk food aisle (as there should be!) and junk food spread throughout the rest of the leviathan. The junk food spread throughout isn't so baffling as to spread the meat section out between three different areas of the establishment. I was awestruck when I tried to find parchment paper, one would assume this would be grouped with the other assorted "kitchen/cooking items" like saran wrap or aluminum foil. No, it's with the paper products and party cups. One would assume the great german "spaekle" or "spaetzel" or whatever the hell those krauts use for noodles is called would be with the other types of noodles, or rice, or maybe even the ethnic aisle. In my local grocery store this "kraut slop" is lumped in with the bread products, without any thought whatsoever of the consumer or their sanity or clarity of mind.
The solution is simple: burn down the grocery store and leave a nice, typewritten letter explaining your distress and how they ought to wise up or face the wrath of your arsonist tendencies again next time. Take what you need first, start the fire in the paper product aisle(s) and don't bother paying on the way out, just be sure to push your cart through the "self-checkout" lane.
You'll probably do some shopping for the holiday upcoming, it's America's birthday for chrissake, you'd be unpatriotic not to, after all. If you can't find a map of the place in the front of the store, I suggest you start shopping elsewhere because your grocery store is run by a nefarious cabal of ne'er-do-wells hellbent on your sanity's destruction and breaking the bank of "impulse buys". Consider yourself warned.
Written By: Javier Nelson
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