I don't know why I'm so drawn to the grocery store. Is it that I enjoy pushing around the cart? Is it the neatly stocked shelves and organized cheeses? Perhaps its the light background music luring me into grocery bliss. I feel like a grown up when I'm armed with my list of needed foods and a shotty-wheeled-cart.
I walked into the most beautiful and shiny store today and felt pangs of sadness knowing that I couldn't linger as I was on a work-related trip. I had a golden ticket to grocery store euphoria. I knew this Albertson's was different from any other. As the first automatic door swung open, a warm rush of cookie baked air almost knocked me off my feet. As the second swung open, shining linoleum and sparkling shelves welcomed me in. This was not the run-down, aged, cold Albertson's of downtown that I was accustomed to. I easily found the aisle of baking supplies I needed (as one would expect in such a gloriously catalogued place). Now I'm no Muffin Man, but I had a sudden urge to buy spatulas, spices and unsifted flour. I wanted to peruse the aisles so badly, but this wasn't the time. As I neared the check out stands, every employee seemed to have an air of the North Pole about them; their cheeks appeared rosier, their smiles whiter. I left feeling grateful to have found this beau monde of markets. I know my level of delight is strange, but I can't deny it. I will be back there again.
