Thursday, September 29, 2005

Heretic. Asshole! MORON!

Well, if you've been reading my blog then you know I have had no end of trouble with the Trader Joe's chain of "intelligent" grocery stores. I have taken issue with their practice of hiring deformed employees (July 20, 2004), and also with the people they hire to hand out free samples (July 8, 2004). There have been other issues, of course, but I have not bothered to make the time to chronicle them. One has to make time for one's self.

Today's entry also concerns their free sample people, but it is not the complaint I have registered in the past. Previously, their "barkers" were quite simply TOO pushy, to the point of getting themselves fired (via my insistence). In this instance, the barker was unforthcoming to the point of extreme exasperation. Even now, I find myself unreasonably angry. I will explain.

If you live in some blighted area without a Trader Joe's, then it is up to me to point out that a primary feature of this chain is their "free sample" counter, a permanent fixture where they combine two or three of their products in an appealing way and offer them to the shopper. Samples may include little cups of Nosausage Floo-roni (a meatless macaroni and cheese with Greek hermaphrodite peas and flour sausage), or a quinoa-raisin salad with dried mangoes and rape nuts. They also offer free coffee for those so addicted.

Today's sample was "Spaghetti and Wheatballs," a meatball best-stitute, which they served in a reconstituted cup with their organic durum spaghetti, hydroponic marinara, and powdered milkweed "pecorino." I took a sample from Roger, their circuit man, and was impressed with what I tasted. After I took my initial bite and let the flavors settle on my tongue for a while, I asked him politely if the Wheatballs were made in a facility that also processed nuts and dairy.

That god damned bitch-shit did not fucking do or say a thing.


He just stood there in his easygoing shirt and kept scooping Wheatballs into cups...I'm shaking as I write this.

Once I was sure no one had seen this asinine non-repartee, I furiously wheeled my cart back over to the juice area, abandoned it, and drove home. I don't care if my freezer items melted and leaked on the floor! I don't care if someone had to put my Luna bars back into their display boxes! FUCK, FUCK ALL OF YOU AT TRADER JOE'S!