In Whole Foods killing time

while my son takes a driving lesson. I am still feeling a mild dullness from the 4 shots of NyQuil I took last night - And for the first time in my life, everyone is moving at my speed. You have to be high to shop in this pseudo hipster store where every choice is a life defining moment. Men between the ages of 30-45 wear their facial scruff like a stamped hand at a living room night club. They wear pajamas but they’re not pajamas. They’re 5 million thread count cotton t-shirts that probably cost 6 zillion dollars because each thread has been dipped in some f---in' fair trade agreement and made by 8 year old Chinese slave labor instead of Pygmie slave labor in protected rain forests. Jeez it’s been awhile. Why did they dial in this CVS backsplash fluorescent lighting in their cosmetics section? “They moved the wild field mushrooms!” shouts this older man to his wife in the next aisle. He’s about to have a coronary. Two European ladies with their Opium perfume waft by. They clearly don’t belong here. Even I find myself snubbing them as they walk down the pasta aisle.

This place wreaks of corporate focus groups and soul-snatching music of the 90’s. They even took away the booths so no one can look at each other when they eat. They have to face forward in further isolation so they will buy more food to comfort themselves.

Ok - time to pay for this over-priced collection of dead organic meat and hand-crafted humus. Long live Amazon Prime - and no, I’m not a f---in’ member!