I have long wished for a supermarket with its own zip code – one that would offer unusual items not previously available on the continental US of A.
Voila! It has arrived in the form of a new Kroger store for my town – reportedly the second largest in the State of Mississippi. I have been a Kroger girl since I was a
toddler in Memphis, Tennessee. I call the 2015 version of mammoth supermarkets ”The Krogster”and it is the monster of all supermarkets – in a good way – mind you. A visit is like a trip through Cuisines of the World.’’
This week, about 50 of my fellow baby boomers and I wandered around the massive store in total confusion with our mouths agape. This is an AARP nightmare.
“Gawlee!”, we said to one another while secretly pining for the Piggly Wiggly with its predictable pathways and more importantly, Mary and Wayne. They will always be my favorite check -out team who are like family.
Going “Krogering” has taken on a new meaning and it should qualify as an aerobic sport. I clocked 1,75 miles on my Fitbit in one visit. We found cheeses from far away lands and a real live soup bar, not to mention a sushi bar and cuisines from planet Mars. Well, not really Mars but it might as well have been.
We marveled at fruits and vegetables that defied our imagination. There was green cauliflower and something called an Ugli fruit – a hairy, truly ugly football-shaped melon which we didn’t know whether to eat or send sailing as far as Dak Prescott on a good day! .
I could go on and on about the foreign edibles but I don’t know where to begin. I discovered I was sucking my thumb before before I could gather my pitiful grocery list and find my car. After one hour and a half of another, all I had in my cart was gerbil food and I don’t even have a gerbil. Jimmy Dodd lost his girl friend on the meat aisle and didn’t find her until dark.
I would like to compliment Mr. White and his staff on the exceptional customer service. One young man offered to accompany me on my shopping spree and he patiently led me down the aisles of who knows what to the cat food which was all I came to get. It was like a visit to a museum of groceries. (On my bucket list and pictured below is a visit to the Woolworth museum in New York state.)
All this “Krogering” brought back memories of1952 when my mother took me into the Woolworth store in Memphis. It would be years before I discovered all that dime store paraphernalia was for sale. I thought the stock was only to “gape at” and dream of one day actually acquiring.
I do have one suggestion for Mr. White, the store manager. Could you offer seminars in how to navigate the terrain and how to get home with something to eat?
On a side note and in the interest of equal time, I learned that Piggly Wiggly will turn 100 next year. It is now called “Vowells” but to me it will always be “The Pig.” I have a cousin from Maui who visits me once a year. Her “to do” list includes only two items – a visit to The Little Dooey followed by a stop off at the Piggly Wiggly to say hello to Mary and Wayne and pick up a MSU t-shirt.
Long live The Dooey and The Piggly Wiggly. We Boomers need something constant to depend upon when flummoxed by the new and unfamiliar.