Well, Grocery Store Industry, There's Something Wrong
And I’m the Pooch Who’s Gonna Change It
Hello. For argument's sake, let’s pretend I’m a dog. Woof! If you’re pretending that I’m a dog, but simultaneously accepting that I’m communicating with you using the written word, then you’re also pretending I’m a ‘can-read’ kinda pooch. Is that okay? As long as it is, there’s one more thing that I’d like for you to pretend, again, for argument's sake. Please pretend, if you will, that as a canine, I’m strolling through a grocery store undisturbed. Not even causing a scene. Just browsing. And much like a fresh 21 year old strolling through a liquor store, I’m seeing for the first time how many options there are beyond the piss beer someone else chose to buy for me.
As an underage drinker, before ever entering a liquor store, you may have thought there would be an aisle designated ‘Under 21 Booze’. The aisle, you assumed, would have items like beer brewed from recycled aluminum cans and Vodka distilled from expired nail polish remover. Stuff that someone of legal drinking age would never drink themselves. And as a pretend literate hound hypothetically strolling through the grocery, that’s how I feel right now!
I naturally start with the aisle labeled ‘dog food’. When I see it, I’m touched. It sounds tailor-made for someone like me (as long as you’re still pretending it is)! And I love that we get the same amount of grocery store real estate as all the ‘ethnic foods’ combined. At first glance, the contents of the dog food aisle seem good. For example, I could see myself overindulging on some of its offerings, then getting full body shakes and projectile vomiting onto an original Edward Wormley ‘party’ sofa in Cognac Yellow.
But as I butt scoot past the store's dedicated cheese cooler, my nose catches a whiff of a 24-lb wheel of 4 month cave-aged Manchego, and it is stinky! And hopefully, as I mentioned earlier, you’re still pretending I’m a dog. Because that makes this dog the exact species that particularly loves stinky! C’mon! Then I saunter past a meat cooler, where I see chicken, beef, veal, turkey, salmon, shrimp, cod, pork, ham, buffalo, elk and caribou. I'm hoping none of those guys were 'man's best friend' at some point too. I mean, I’ve never even seen some of those animals alive! Finally, I dilly-dally through the deli. I witness hundreds more pounds of meat! And dozens more pounds of cheese? More food that makes this pooch say, ‘yes please’! But also, ‘what the hell’? There’s multiple meat and cheese sections, yet none of them are labeled dog food aisles? They could at least label them person AND pooch food aisles!
Like a stray without Frontline, I’m ticked.
But nothing can prepare me for the final aisle I stumble upon. At the grocery store--and I swear to dog this is not a joke--there is an entire floor to ceiling aisle with rows upon rows and columns upon columns of nothing but lusciously scrumptious papier du toilette. That is the pomme frite of the poochie world! And it is my absolute unequivocal favorite food of all time! I love to eat it, and then I love to scatter it all over every handmade oriental rug in the house. Somehow ‘Big Grocery’ is trying to say this is the ‘Paper Goods’ aisle, and not the dog food aisle? Well, grocery store industry, there is something wrong, and I’m the bitch who’s gonna change it.