it seems that this Marsha Meijer makeover isn't one of those outpatient, recover over the weekend types. this recovery is a doozy. I think we're on week 6 right now. things are looking tight and pulled together in some areas, while even more areas are still sporting the plastic, ceiling to floor surgical drapery, giving a definite "we'll get to that problem area soon" feeling. the entire store is turned upside down, inside out, topsy-turvy, (any other madcap images?) and willy-nilly. (tee hee, snuck that one in for my Southern friends.) now, for, let's say, an amateur Meijer shopper this might be frustrating and confusing--but for a veteran professional such as myself, this Meijer muddle is a blessing in disguise.
sure, even as a professional shopper I wish the new hot pink faux lambswool back-support cushion inventory stacked in the aisles would get shelved and I could do without the worry of watching supposed-to-be-refrigerated-food sweating on a palette in aisle 14, but these negatives aside, there are a few perks.
staying true to my capitalist roots, the first perk is money, cha-ching! Meijer management is everywhere discounting meat, produce, cheese and nearly all other essentials. I like to call them the "pardon our dust" discounts. this little perk is keeping my family filled with the USDA suggested requirements of fruits, vegetables, dairy, New York strip steak and baby back ribs. then, as if that isn't wonderful in and of itself, when I check out--feeling smug about my obvious steak dinner with all the trimmings--I get a coupon telling me that my loyalty to this Meijer makeover will be rewarded to the tune of $5 off my next grocery bill.
are ya' green with envy yet? not quite? read on my hard to impress friend, read on...
to me, (a veteran of the Meijer grocery experience) the most important perk of all is the silence of the crazies. let that sink in for a minute--no crazies for the past 6 weeks! admittedly, I do not have the scientific data to support my theory, but I believe the Meijer makeover chaos has compromised the crazies' infrastructure, they haven't been able to adapt yet!
the guy who sniffs corn on the cob like it's a fine Cuban cigar is silently staring at the newly located Brach's bulk candy, probably wondering where he is going to get his next cob fix. the typically cantankerous pharmacy patrons are now quietly standing behind the remains of the red-taped privacy line, (ignoring the tiny, handwritten sign informing them of the new pharmacy location) hoping the great Pharmacist of Oz will throw back the plastic drapes and reveal a staff with a heart and a brain. even the frenetic mini-Bonaparte brats are at a loss as to when and where to throw a candy tantrum. nearly everyone else is wandering the superstore craning their necks, brows furrowed in concentration/frustration, and mouthing the words "where is...?"
basically, what all this means for a worn out Meijer veteran like me is that I can now indulge in a quiet shopping experience--even the tunes of yesteryear are squelched. despite all the physical disarray at Meijer, I'm sure (if I had the faintest idea how) I could silently slip into a yoga meditative state.
ohm. makeover. ohm.