Lost in the Supermarket
I'm all lost in the supermarket
I can no longer shop happily
I came in here for that special offer
A guaranteed personality
- The Clash
Last Sunday I finally did it--I visited the Southlake Central Market.
A good friend from out of town visited last Sunday. Knowing this friend likes Belgian style ales, I figured instead of driving to Hall's in Colleyville, I'd hit Central Market in Southlake (I've heard wonderful things about their beer selection).
I was able to slip in when it wasn't so crowded. It seemed like perfect timing--I even found a spot right up front. I think the spot was laid as bait for an unsuspecting soul like myself, luring me into a false sense of security before trapping me in supermarket madness.
I entered a door set a little right of the main entrance. There was no entry area with carts, but instead--a giant wall of ice full of produce. I thought it was like Whole Foods, where you step into the store and they sometimes have produce specials right there inside. As the doors closed behind me, sealing me in, I realized I was in the produce room.
I'm used to stores where I can see a big open space with all kinds of signs. I stand almost 6' 4" and can read signs several aisles over. I like having that ability, but it wasn't to be at Central Market. I felt like a cow being led to slaughter as I wandered back and forth among other lost shoppers only a few steps in and no idea where they were going. I made my way around a couple turns, searching for open space. I looked to the back of the giant room and I guy in a big poofy hat was either offering watermelon or the innards of some poor, unsuspecting shopper butchered for trying to find an exit behind the counter.
I sidestepped the terrible ending and noticed a tiny "GROCERY" sign hanging from the ceiling and pointing through a doorway. As I left the produce room I heard a woman say, to nobody in particular, "I'm lost. I have no idea where I am..."
If the employees of the store received a dollar for every time a customer says those very words, they'd never have to work again.
I lucked out--the produce room led to the beer and wine room. I say "room" because the store isn't wide open. I suppose in some ways that's neat, but it made me feel trapped, like the old Roach Motel commercial: "Roaches check in--but they don't check out." I felt each step brought me deeper and deeper into some sick commercial trap where I would spend all my money in a bid to get out, and when I finally ran out of cash, I'd be made into foodstuff in colorful packaging and placed on a shelf alongside other one-time shoppers. A giant self-perpetuating money machine.
But like I said, I was right there by the beer. I would stand before the Wall o' Beer and be wowed like I've never been wowed before. There would be no Milwaukee's Best or Red Dog in a can to be seen. It would be a cascade of Leffe, Duvel, La Fin du Monde, and Chimay. Hell, they might even have Trappist Westvleteren 12!
I was only in the store three minutes, but I felt like I'd already been on a long journey and finally found the Fountain of Youth spilling into the Holy Grail. They even had a sign reading BELGIAN. All I'd heard would be true; they would have the most incredible Belgian beer selection on the planet. Trappist monks would be there, pouring samples for me.
Instead, they had Heineken and some other green bottled beers that aren't even Belgian style. I finally saw a four pack of Blanche de Chambley and grabbed it. I snagged some Guinness, too, because we used to always drink Guinness with this particular friend. That was it--I had my beer and it was time to get out!
But I was trapped in a room full of beer and wine. (Granted, I can think of a gazillion and eighteen worse places to be trapped.)
I made my way along shelves like a mouse in a scientific study. Eventually I reached an aisle that had to go somewhere, but it ended up being a corner going nowhere. I stopped and tried finding a way out. I looked and listened. And that's when I heard it--just on the other side of the giant wall...the beeping sounds of the checkout lines!
But how could I get there? I was trapped! I thought about climbing the shelves and going over. I'd stand at the top, looking over the entire store, seeing scores of lost people in similar situations, struggling to find the way out. I'd be their Moses, calling to them--leading them through the giant maze to safety. It would be like the parting of the Red Sea. We'd all run out the front doors and into the parking lot, happy to be alive and seeing the sun one more time.
Instead, I found my way out, bought my beer, and vowed I'd never go back again...
At least not without a map, a GPS, and a full support team in the parking lot.
I've been feeling really...I don't know if I'd say crappy, but definitely spacey and icky from the pituitary tumor. It reached a point where I finally broke down and went to see the endocrinologist for the first time in a couple years.
One of the things I resolved was that I'd put health before other things this year. The visit was the typical visit: the endocrinologist poked and prodded and talked and wants me to get an MRI I told him I can't afford. I totally understand his concerns--they're my concerns, too, but one step at a time, and that's all we could swing this week.
He called today, but I missed the call while eating. I was a little concerned because he's never called to discuss results, but it's been a couple years since I've seen him and maybe he's changed some of the ways he does things. If it were an emergency, he would have said so I'm sure, but I wish I had been able to take the call and moved into the weekend knowing what's up with the hormone levels and where we're going next.
But...medicine is on the way and I have a prescription finally. If I need the other prescription (testosterone gel), the endocrinologist will send that to the pharmacy. I'm planning to figure out some way to swing insurance through one of the professional organizations I'm in. It'll be tough, but the most important thing this year is taking care of health, and 2007 is already off to a good start with Wednesday's visit to the doc :)
I can no longer shop happily
I came in here for that special offer
A guaranteed personality
- The Clash
Last Sunday I finally did it--I visited the Southlake Central Market.
A good friend from out of town visited last Sunday. Knowing this friend likes Belgian style ales, I figured instead of driving to Hall's in Colleyville, I'd hit Central Market in Southlake (I've heard wonderful things about their beer selection).
I was able to slip in when it wasn't so crowded. It seemed like perfect timing--I even found a spot right up front. I think the spot was laid as bait for an unsuspecting soul like myself, luring me into a false sense of security before trapping me in supermarket madness.
I entered a door set a little right of the main entrance. There was no entry area with carts, but instead--a giant wall of ice full of produce. I thought it was like Whole Foods, where you step into the store and they sometimes have produce specials right there inside. As the doors closed behind me, sealing me in, I realized I was in the produce room.
I'm used to stores where I can see a big open space with all kinds of signs. I stand almost 6' 4" and can read signs several aisles over. I like having that ability, but it wasn't to be at Central Market. I felt like a cow being led to slaughter as I wandered back and forth among other lost shoppers only a few steps in and no idea where they were going. I made my way around a couple turns, searching for open space. I looked to the back of the giant room and I guy in a big poofy hat was either offering watermelon or the innards of some poor, unsuspecting shopper butchered for trying to find an exit behind the counter.
I sidestepped the terrible ending and noticed a tiny "GROCERY" sign hanging from the ceiling and pointing through a doorway. As I left the produce room I heard a woman say, to nobody in particular, "I'm lost. I have no idea where I am..."
If the employees of the store received a dollar for every time a customer says those very words, they'd never have to work again.
I lucked out--the produce room led to the beer and wine room. I say "room" because the store isn't wide open. I suppose in some ways that's neat, but it made me feel trapped, like the old Roach Motel commercial: "Roaches check in--but they don't check out." I felt each step brought me deeper and deeper into some sick commercial trap where I would spend all my money in a bid to get out, and when I finally ran out of cash, I'd be made into foodstuff in colorful packaging and placed on a shelf alongside other one-time shoppers. A giant self-perpetuating money machine.
But like I said, I was right there by the beer. I would stand before the Wall o' Beer and be wowed like I've never been wowed before. There would be no Milwaukee's Best or Red Dog in a can to be seen. It would be a cascade of Leffe, Duvel, La Fin du Monde, and Chimay. Hell, they might even have Trappist Westvleteren 12!
I was only in the store three minutes, but I felt like I'd already been on a long journey and finally found the Fountain of Youth spilling into the Holy Grail. They even had a sign reading BELGIAN. All I'd heard would be true; they would have the most incredible Belgian beer selection on the planet. Trappist monks would be there, pouring samples for me.
Instead, they had Heineken and some other green bottled beers that aren't even Belgian style. I finally saw a four pack of Blanche de Chambley and grabbed it. I snagged some Guinness, too, because we used to always drink Guinness with this particular friend. That was it--I had my beer and it was time to get out!
But I was trapped in a room full of beer and wine. (Granted, I can think of a gazillion and eighteen worse places to be trapped.)
I made my way along shelves like a mouse in a scientific study. Eventually I reached an aisle that had to go somewhere, but it ended up being a corner going nowhere. I stopped and tried finding a way out. I looked and listened. And that's when I heard it--just on the other side of the giant wall...the beeping sounds of the checkout lines!
But how could I get there? I was trapped! I thought about climbing the shelves and going over. I'd stand at the top, looking over the entire store, seeing scores of lost people in similar situations, struggling to find the way out. I'd be their Moses, calling to them--leading them through the giant maze to safety. It would be like the parting of the Red Sea. We'd all run out the front doors and into the parking lot, happy to be alive and seeing the sun one more time.
Instead, I found my way out, bought my beer, and vowed I'd never go back again...
At least not without a map, a GPS, and a full support team in the parking lot.
I've been feeling really...I don't know if I'd say crappy, but definitely spacey and icky from the pituitary tumor. It reached a point where I finally broke down and went to see the endocrinologist for the first time in a couple years.
One of the things I resolved was that I'd put health before other things this year. The visit was the typical visit: the endocrinologist poked and prodded and talked and wants me to get an MRI I told him I can't afford. I totally understand his concerns--they're my concerns, too, but one step at a time, and that's all we could swing this week.
He called today, but I missed the call while eating. I was a little concerned because he's never called to discuss results, but it's been a couple years since I've seen him and maybe he's changed some of the ways he does things. If it were an emergency, he would have said so I'm sure, but I wish I had been able to take the call and moved into the weekend knowing what's up with the hormone levels and where we're going next.
But...medicine is on the way and I have a prescription finally. If I need the other prescription (testosterone gel), the endocrinologist will send that to the pharmacy. I'm planning to figure out some way to swing insurance through one of the professional organizations I'm in. It'll be tough, but the most important thing this year is taking care of health, and 2007 is already off to a good start with Wednesday's visit to the doc :)