Supermarket

I have an obsession with supermarkets which I haven't quite worked out yet. I love being in them, even if I'm not going to buy anything. It makes sense that I'd enjoy a place where I can get all the food I need to survive. That's just human nature. But with supermarkets, the older and lamer they are the more I love them. I accidentally insulted my step-sister's old girlfriend by saying her dad's supermarket was so cool because it was old, crappy, and offbeat. I had a real infatuation with that place.

I especially enjoy going to several supermarkets in the same chain, more so when they're in different kinds of locations (the city, deep country, etc). And you always get that magical, simulated movie experience where you're in the moment, definitely of your era and space, a victim of our crap culture where they want you to be a little droid instead of a human animal. It's when they're playing "A Matter of Trust" by Billy Joel and you think, "I'm listening to a shitty, vapid song about a serious relationship issue while I shop for junk food and stare at all the cashiers in their identical Eagles jerseys and I don't know what the fuck I'm doing with my life." And you're probably pretending to get along with your partner as the song plays and you push the cart and everyone looks miserable and busy and you're all checking out people who aren't ever going to be in your lives. And the yogurt's not on sale this week. You feel like you're the only one with blood running and who realizes that you're living in a plastic world. You live where things are supposed to be real, but they all come in a frozen box with that awful soundtrack above you, hanging around the rafters.

Today was better, though. Much better. I went to a different supermarket than usual. Typically I go to one in Trevose/Feasterville. I like the high school kids there and it's always where I've gone. I like ritual, too much sometimes. So today, when my friend accidentally slept through lunch, I went to this new place on Route 13 while I was waiting for her. It was marvelous. They had two registers open: regular and express. Almost no one was shopping. I walked around singing songs and talking to myself in a bad British accent about the canned tomatoes. I was in Heaven. They had less food than the other one I went to and the look of the place was so deformed and alien. I felt at home by virtue of feeling out of place. It was like being in a worn out time warp. The employees had big moles and walked around depressed while customers slowly pushed their carts with the force of their legs and hump backs. I ran around like it was my first Christmas. I suppose my attraction is toward the place being a messed up version of something which should be clean and healthy. It's a little bizarro. I do tend to have a deep love for anything which signifies society in decay. It's why I love old collapsing barns and the partially razed buildings you find in Central PA. If today's visit is any indication, I found a real treasure. I know I'm going to be going back very much. It's where the freaks work and the ogres shop and the parking lot's too big for the customer base. It's like living in a great poem. With a pharmacy.