Well, I think you�ll all be happy to know that I found a grocery store whose employees were not on strike, and so I am now once again fully in support of my fellow, working man. I no longer hate anybody. Well, okay, Avril Livigne, but that�s it.
In my efforts to locate an employee-friendly grocery store, I actually ended up swinging by one of those fucked up places where they sell all family-size shit, like Sam�s Club, or whatever. You know, where you can buy a 15,000-roll pack of toilet paper, or a box of Corn Pops that could feed Brazil. For a week.
I think it was curiosity more than anything else that lured me in there, to tell the truth, because I really don�t think I could find any practical usage for a thirty-gallon drum of honey, or a frozen pizza in a box that could comfortably hold a chariot wheel. But really, it�s the same impulse that draws tourists to attractions like The Largest Ball of Twine in Wherever, or The Mystery Spot, that was calling to me from the fluorescent-lit, jumbo-sized recesses of Smart & Final this afternoon.
Brief sidebar: why the hell is it called �Smart & Final�? I mean, I�m assuming they�re trying to indicate to you it�s all one-stop shopping, no need to continue on from here because we�ve sure got it all, and the prices are so great you�d have to be an idiot not to stop here first, but still. Smart & Final is a name neither clever enough nor apropos enough to be anything but�well, lame.
Anyway, let�s return to our regularly scheduled programming, where we find Dr. No standing in a well-lit aisle, holding onto a 4-pound tub of peanut butter and seriously contemplating whether it�s worth $5.99. I mean, I do love peanut butter. A lot. But do I really eat enough of it to make it worth buying four pounds of it all at once? Or, more to the point, do I really want to give myself the means by which to eat four pounds of peanut butter, with a spoon, in one sitting? The answer turned out to be no, and I put the peanut butter back.
That was actually when I escorted myself out of the store, too, because if I�d stayed for one moment longer, I can�t swear that I wouldn�t have grabbed a gigantor box of Oreos and made for the exit like my ass was on fire. And, okay, so running out to the parking lot three steps ahead of security might be a great way to burn calories, but probably not enough to validate me scarfing down 100+ sandwich cookies in the space of a half-hour. Although you should all know that I just described my own personal heaven (the cookie-eating part, not the running from security part).
So I ended up not buying any family-sized dry goods or perishables after all, which is probably just as well. It did give me a lot of really unhealthy ideas for the future, though. Now that I�ve confessed to being on this New Healthy Diet, I might as well be completely honest and admit that the only thing that keeps me true to said diet on a daily basis is the improbable notion that one day I�ll have built up enough healthy momentum that I�ll be able to stop eating well and just start pigging out on chocolate and candy, with no adverse effects to my physical well-being. It may not be rational, but it keeps me getting out of bed in the morning.
You guys should also know that that last sentence is also my personal motto.
Someone Got Here By Searching For: he�s scared of commitment And: appledumplinggang I�m Watching: Joan of Arcadia. Don�t give me that, it�s a fine show! I�m Craving: A great, big-ass bag of milk chocolate chips.