Nils Parker likes the service and selection of products at Whole Foods. He just can’t stand his fellow customers.
The problem with Whole Foods is their regular customers. They are, across the board, across the country, useless, ignorant, and miserable. Theyâ€™re worse than miserable, theyâ€™re angry. They are quite literally the opposite of every Whole Foods employee Iâ€™ve ever encountered. Walk through any store any time of dayâ€”but especially 530pm on a weekday or Saturday afternoon during football seasonâ€”and invariably you will encounter a sneering, disdainful horde of hipster Zombies and entitled 1%ers.
They stand in the middle of the aisles, blocking passage of any other cart, staring intently at the selection asking themselves that critical question: which one of these olive oils makes me seem coolest and most socially conscious, while also making the raw vegetable salad Iâ€™m preparing for the monthly condo board meeting seem most rustic and artisanal?
If you are a normal human being, when you come upon a person like this in the aisle you clear your throat or say excuse me, hoping against hope that they catch your drift. They donâ€™t. In fact, they are disgusted by your very existence. The idea that you would violate their personal shopping spaceâ€”which seems to be the entire storeâ€”or deign to request anything of them is so far beyond the pale that most times all they can muster is an â€œUgh!â€
Over the years I have tried everything to remain civil to these people, but nothing has worked, so Iâ€™ve stopped trying. Instead, I walk over to their cart and physically move it to the side for them. Usually, the shock of such an egregious transgression is so great that the â€œUgh!â€ doesnâ€™t happen until Iâ€™m around the corner out of sight. Usually, all I get is an incredulous bug-eyed stare. Sometimes I get both though, and when that happens, I look them square in the eye and say â€œMove. Your. Cart.â€ I used the same firm tone as Jason Bourne, with the hushed urgency of Jack Bauer and the
uncomfortable proximity of Judge Reinhold. From their reaction youâ€™d think I just committed an armed robbery or a sexual assault. When words fail them, as they often do with passive aggressive Whole Foods zombies, the anger turns inward and they start to vibrate with righteous indignation. Eventually, that pent up energy has to go somewhere, and like solar flares it bursts forth into the universe as paroxysms of rage.
Outside the four walls of a Whole Foods, you might recognize these people as Gawker commenters or Twitter shamers. Inside, they are the breathless, self-important shoppers who just canâ€™t believe!! that itâ€™s taking this long to check out. They are busy, they have somewhere to be. Donâ€™t these people in the other six open checkout lanes that are each 3 shoppers deep understand that, WTF??!?
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