The nation's largest grocery chain has a substantial presence in my area. There are certain comestibles I get from smaller, specialty stores, but the lion’s share of my food shopping happens at the local Mega Corporation Mart.
I suspect that group of suit-wearing office dwellers in Cincinnati, where the firm is based, recently launched an initiative aimed at engaging with their customers. I think this because their workers, formerly silent and sullen, have suddenly started going out of their way to engage me in conversation while I shop.
The nation's largest grocery chain has a substantial presence in my area. There are certain comestibles I get from smaller, specialty stores, but the lion’s share of my food shopping happens at the local Mega Corporation Mart.
I suspect that group of suit-wearing office dwellers in Cincinnati, where the firm is based, recently launched an initiative aimed at engaging with their customers. I think this because their workers, formerly silent and sullen, have suddenly started going out of their way to engage me in conversation while I shop.
There is often a grocery associate stationed in the lobby, making sure I have a copy of the weekly sale flyer. She asks me, “How are you today?”
I mumble in reply while trying to remember a handful of items I came for.
This corporate-mandated interrogation regarding my mood is repeated in my produce department search for the perfect banana bunch, and later as I peruse the pricey meat department selections. If I linger too long amid the dry goods filling the center store shelves, another associate questions my status while passing by.
“How are you today?" I am asked again. “Finding everything you need?”
There is nothing wrong with this giant conglomerate trying to seem more welcoming by encouraging their employees to chat with me.
The problem is, the more I shop and the more I am asked that question, the worse my status becomes. Perhaps I should answer their queries more honestly.
I am worried about genetically modified ingredients. I am concerned about the chemicals used to process much of this food, substances not allowed in countries that don't embrace corporate campaign contributions as enthusiastically as the United States.
I am anxious about the canned goods I purchase, with ingredients in the plastic lining that have been shown to be harmful to the human endocrine system. I am troubled by the over-refined nature of what we as a culture are encouraged to eat. I am apprehensive about the giant factory farms on which the food was grown or raised, and the environmental unsustainability of those operations.
I am nervous about the hormones, antibiotics, and other additives given to the livestock that I consume. I am bothered by the sizable carbon footprint I must own up to for so many of my food choices.
I am embarrassed another growing season has passed without my picking produce, preserves, and other items from local sources at the farmers market. I am disappointed I was not more ambitious in my gardening attempts. And I miss the incomparable taste of those few tomatoes I managed to raise.
I hope the gargantuan grocery chain continues its efforts to make their stores feel friendlier and their associates more approachable. But being that I am what I eat, there’s too much to think about while shopping. With so many big issues on my mind, I'm going to have to skip the small talk.
Pat Grimes, a former South Bay resident, writes from Ypsilanti, Mich. He can be reached at pgwriter@inbox.com
