First,
I think that I should preface this post by saying that I am cheap… very cheap,
especially when it comes to food. I would say a good 90% of my diet comes from
leftovers or food that I’ve filched from events, and then “doctored up” as my
mother would say. So there it is, I’m going to shout it from the rooftops, I
LOVE CHEAP FOOD! Now to my story.
A
few weeks ago we had a DC program pot-luck dinner (a very fun evening that I’m
sure everyone on the program would recommend) For the party, my tribe (Abby
Mackenzie and I) decided to bring an apple brown betty and queso with chips. I
needed several ingredients for these two dishes so I decided to stop by the
grocery store after work.
So,
that evening, I got onto good’ol Google Maps and routed from my office to
“grocery store” not bothering to look at which grocery store I would be routed
to. When I arrived at 14 and P St, I found myself at the Austin-native Whole
Foods, a store that I had never before entered. At first the flowers out front
and the pretty signs hanging to and fro delighted me...but then I saw the
prices. Green apples were $4.50/lb. Let me be clear, these were not magical
apples, just green ones. Corn chips were five dollars a bag and a little bag a
sugar was going to set me back $6. As I filled my little green basket (That’s
not intended to be a pun, but I’m sure it is) my heart began to race, I felt a
bead of sweat trickle down my forehead.
These emotions were only
made worse by the fact that I was surrounded by the creature whom I despise the
most… hipsters. Everywhere I looked there were old lady glasses and funny
looking mustaches, skinny jeans on men and women holding ridiculously prices
food items yet wearing distinctly thrift store clothing.
As I stood there holding
my little basket of overprices goods I realized that all that was left on my
list was Velveeta, o yes I said it, fake cheese. And I thought to myself,
“Maybe I should go and ask that girl where I can find the Velveeta.” At which
point I realized, “There’s no Velveeta in this store, and that woman will think
I’m insane if I ask her.”
And that was it. I
panicked. The words “No red blooded American shops in a store where they don’t
sell fake cheese popped into my head.” So I dropped my basket, (with a loud
bang I might add) and I literally ran out of the store, much to the bemusement
of the many hipsters.
Outside of the store, I
instantly called my roommate Abby to inform her that I had had a panic attack
in the Whole Foods, and God love her that girl took me right over to Giant, the
grocery store where I belong, and where we saved a total of $18 with coupons
that very day!
(Giant at Columbia Heights)
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