beauty is only skin deep.
remember that little gem--oh, and the grass is always greener on the yadda, yadda--those little pearls will be important for this entire posting. umm, you better add be careful what you wish for.
as you know, I've experienced the Marsha sisterstore. I was wowed, awed and nearly tongue-tied when I happened upon the Marsha Meijer oasis a few towns away from my own crazy, uncooth Jan superstore. yes, the cobalt blue, freshly-pressed, cotton button-downs have haunted me as I waited in line transfixed by the obese Jan associate's fuzzy navel bulging from an overstretched, faded Jan associate "uniform."
imagine my little heart's delight when the railroad containers of construction equipment suddenly appeared in the west parking lot! the hopes, dreams, and so on, of my inner soul were finally coming to pass--Jan was getting an extreme Marsha makeover!
the makeover has been dramatic--black and yellow construction tape cordoning off bare, delapidated shelving. entire sections of the store have been moved, a kind of tummy tuck if you will. last season's cat-sick beige linoleum tiles have been ripped from the floor and tossed aside in a devil-may-care fashion. entirely new general merchandise sections have been added (obviously implants), that will undoubtedly add to the perkiness of the entire store. well, once the swelling has gone down and the bruising has faded.
so, on the whole I have been delighted with the prospects of a Marsha store to hang in. my coolness status is going to ratchet up now that I'm in a Marsha zip code.
yeah, or so I thought.
let's review what "Confucious say" at top of posting, or was that Aesop? Plato, Aristotle? whomever, the point is that those historic, italicized cliches up there have caused a major set-back in my Jan to Marsha makeover fantasy.
during this makeover I have come to the painful realization that under the cool, mod, groovy Marsha exterior, is the whiny, petty, frumpy soul of Jan. the employees are the same chatty, rude, union-righted employees. the deli counter still propigates the back-turned silent treatment, the pharmacy still enacts the 3-7 minute rule and Meijer crazies still skitter around looking for "fruit2O, you know that healthy water."
my fantasy has quickly turned into some horror scenario where an unholy, frankenstein-esque creature has been created called (duhn, duhn, duuuhhhnnn)--the Marshan!!!
be careful when you wish for the greener grass on the other side because after all, beauty is only skin deep.
