Meijer and the holiday sparkle

from the moment I strong-walked in to the superstore--typically a bustle of Thanksgiving and Christmas Black Friday anticipation/excitement--I sensed it; a disturbing lack of holiday excitement.

no frenetic searches for the mathematically optimum number of dinner rolls. no heart-tenderizing moments between polarized generations agreeing on favorite side-dishes that must be on the table. no profound relief at the glorious sight of deep fresh-produce bins bursting with sweet potatoes and Yukon Golds... 

all the lack of those moments, in a place brimming with abundance, put me on edge.

I scoured the superstore searching, desperately searching, for a moment, a convo, an expression--something that would inspire a Thanksgiving-Eve-Holiday-Cheer-post to end 2019.

I swung into the baking aisle, so positive baking supplies would be a gold mine of Thanksgiving Eve spirit and/or heart-wrenching drama. 

nope. 

my disappointment expressed itself through my nervous foot-tapping, but not to the beat of the Little Drummer Boy from the overhead sound system— instead, a Pet Shop Boys “classic" pop song.

"no Christmas music." I gasped.

my cart stopped alongside the cooler cabinets, I bit my lip, brow furrowed.

"no Christmas snowflake graphics on the egg cartons."

panicked, my eyes flitted upwards, scanning the warehouse eaves, from one end of the massive superstore to the other. 

"no Christmas decorations swaying from fishing line." I muttered to no one.  

a pattern was forming. a sinister, holiday-sparkle-destroying pattern.

I numbly waited in the checkout line, in shock really. 

I searched the other 9 open checkout lanes (only 10 out of 36 lanes?!), hoping for a last chance, a last something that could turn this non-holiday mood into something touching, heart-warming, something spectacularly compelling... but all I saw were blank, tired, and jaded faces.

then, it happened.

Big Intimidating Dude--wiry, unkempt long hair, "natural" beard (no beard oil or fancy "shaping"), worn hoodie, covered by an even more worn jean jacket--locked eyes with me.

clearly he had watched me as I watched the zombie-esque others. it was a moment of social-awkward dread that my nightmares are filled with. a moment that in normal circumstances would make me dart my eyes in a panic-driven alternate direction.

but somehow-- somehow I resisted that evolutionary fight or flight reaction, and held my eye-gazing ground. the corner of my mouth raised ever so slightly, a sheepish attempt at a holiday cheering smile.

B.I.D.'s face lit up with genuine mirth, I wasn't close enough to hear his laugh, but from the spontaneous wake-up reaction of those closer to him, it seemed like a much-needed jolly oasis. 

sheepish smile no more, I was full-on, teeth-showing, cheeks rosy-ing smiling. 

aaaannnd, I felt my eyes sparkle. I just knew my eyes holiday-sparkled, at least as much as B.I.D's did. 

Meijer and the anti-goodbye

most people I know have a talent that truly baffles me.

when it's time to say farewell to a visiting friend, a beloved family member, or to an unrequited love spanning decades in a rural airport in France (☚ oh yeah, that's definitely a scene for a new Nicholas Sparks novel/movie), 99.9% know exactly what to say. 

ex-act-ly. 

it's as if a Shakespearean ghost whispers the perfect adieu that warms the heart, and conveys the deepest joys of the time spent together during that Labor Day weekend BBQ; or the heart-wrenching, unspoken sorrows/regrets at that rural French airport. 
*quick google search if there is such a thing as a rural airport in France* 🤔 👍🏻

you might think that someone with a blog spanning 14 years, and 95 published posts, should be a veritable whiz with the words--hurling them about with dexterity, capturing the beauty of each moment with an existential imagery that lingers  l o o o n n g g g  after the words fade.

well, you'd be wrong, because I suck at goodbyes.  

*sigh* 

I'm ashamed to admit it, but over the years, I've developed a pathetic coping-mechanism for my "goodbye impotence." I smile, give hugs, and utter these unbelievably trite and seemingly insincere words (feel free to join me for a pre-emptive overt eye roll)...

"This isn't goodbye, there's always ("the phone" circa 1981-1990, "email" 1994-2003, "Facebook" 2004-2010, "twitter" 2010-2011, and now...) Insta!" 

🤦🏻‍♀️

so with that background info, imagine my jaw-dropping shock at my latest goodbye predicament propped inside Meijer's entrance/exit airlock--




my first thought was to drop to my knees, raise my fist and shout at the Meijer gods, 

"noooooooooo!"

but that would make me a Meijer/Starbucks crazy, so I opted to stop, stare, then woodenly point my phone/camera. #forposterity

the beloved Starbucks, hipster-tucked unassumingly in Meijer's corner is... gone. and that-- that sign, that Starbucks goodbye... was the ultimate anti-goodbye.

no whispering ghosts, no imagery, no unrequited chest pangs of hope and/or regret as the AirFrance commuter jet slides from the gate (I'm serious Nicholas S, this needs to be a novel/movie--call me). just the Starbucks Siren perched atop a white placard, Meijer font in Meijer blue and Meijer red, with a date. 

hours later, after going through the 5 stages of grief (one of the perks of being shallow is a quick grief turnaround time), I whispered, 

"brilliant." 

then sipped my tall, coconut milk hot chocolate, no whip, on the patio at a Starbucks, a quarter of a mile away from... Meijer, the superstore.

Meijer and the forgivable sin

225,000 sq/ft. that's the average square footage for a Meijer store. 

having a hard time visualizing that number? have a look see...



for my farming/suburban peeps: 4.59 acres 
for my big-city folks: 2 blocks

and you laughed when I compared the superstore to an ultra. #sillyyou

when the task of picking up groceries becomes necessary, I have a full-on, in-my-head pro/con debate about which grocery store to choose. 

Kroger 's size is a hop-skip-and-a-jump experience compared to Meijer but, lacks product variety and quantity, and no apple-pay(!).

Whole Foods is the middle sq/footage option, but... they have a different product variety hurdle--it's for a very specific customer/demographic. I call this customer the "Vegan-Hipsters-That-Reject-(but participate in)-A-Capitalist-Society," #veghiptracs (☚ I would love to see that # trend). on the pro side, the veghiptracs are seriously into apple pay. 🤛🏼

and then there's Meijer, the behemoth Moby Dick superstore.

so, when I inner-debate the options, and choose Meijer, it's because I have convinced myself that the apple pay option #nopurselife, and marathon experience will be worth the assumed product variety and quantity.

insert *overt eye roll*

I review my list, you know, mentally GPSing the most efficient route for this inevitable heater-skelter experience:
cauliflower
garlic 
parchment paper 
fairlife milk
unreal crispy dark chocolate peanut butter cups
vitamin D gummies
zip-ties the long ones (not the teeny ones, and not the medium ones)
LED bulbs
mio: orange vanilla w/ vitamins
T-straight pins
halo ice cream: peanut butter cup or (2nd choice) mint chip

(side note: I'm analyzing this list to see if I'm revealing too much about myself to the world. it does come off as some sort of pretend health-nut list... but then the LED bulbs, long zip-ties and T straight pins lean... w e i r d. #letmebeclear #Ileanopposite #totheweird #kindofweird)

and here's the result:
cauliflower ✔︎
garlic ✔︎
parchment paper ✘
fairlife milk ✘
unreal crispy dark chocolate peanut butter cups ✘
vitamin D gummies ✘
zip-ties: long ones (not the teeny ones, and not the medium ones ☚ gobs and gobs of these sizes!) ✘
LED bulbs ✔︎
mio: orange vanilla w/ vitamins  ✘
T straight pins  ✘
halo ice cream: peanut butter cup or (2nd choice) mint chip...

I'm the very picture of fuming disbelief--I pro/con-ed this trip! I push my pathetic two-tier cart with its contents of two root veggies and a box of energy efficiency towards the freezer section.

my foot throbs--all the petulant foot stomping, my hair is in disarray--all the bending over to see if my item is in the waaaaaay back of the shelf, and my tongue is sore--all the biting to keep my blankety-blank frustration from escaping. 

the motion sensor lights behind the glass freezer doors flicker awake as I pass. a pleading mantra loops in my head.

"peanut butter cup--that's all I want. please have it. please!"

trust me, I'm soooo aware that if a person's inner-mantra is a desperate plea for a particular flavor of ice cream, well... that person has lost it. 🙋🏻‍♀️

my cart rolls up to the halo section, I open the frosty door, metaphorically morphing into T-800, my eyes flip to hyper-focus search mode (HFSM), hands disregard their natural aversion to cold, and rapid-sort through the options. 

"no!" my frosty heart-wrenching gasp of disappointment stamps the death-knell into my mantra: ✘

I regroup, grasping for a modicum of hope, 

"mint chip?" ✘!

I drop into a squat, continue my search, angrily reject the toppled, always left-behind flavor: oatmeal cookie. puh-lease! for the love of creamed-ice, halo(!), put the oatmeal out of its misery!

I reach deep into the frozen closet and pull forward what I know will be a disast--


👀?!?!


heretofore this moment... I've never seen, much less tasted the blueberry crumble.

I like blueberries.
I like crumbles.

my ✘ angst dissolves. 
the pain in my foot? gone. 
my hair? feels aright on my head.
my tongue? pfffft(!)--all it feels is anticipation for this flavor curiosity.

walking to my car, I review Meijer's unforgivable sin, only ~30% of my list?! but then, I grip my Meijer emblazoned bag tighter, and glance down at the golden-y tops of two pints of forgiveness.