For all of you Massachusetts folk, you know that there are several religions in our great Commonwealth. Up there with Christianity and Judaism, there is also another god many worship. That god is Market Basket.
Market Basket provides wicked cheap groceries to the masses. For all us Yankee blooded penny pinching miserly beasts, being thrifty is literally in our DNA, so this grocery store is Mecca.
I know when my dad is in Market Basket; he’ll have a distant far away glazed over response for everything. I called him once, began speaking, and disregarding that his daughter was on the phone, made sure the butcher knew he meant business: No no, I said a pound and a kaw-tah of the had-dick! Sorry Mah-grett; gettin’ fish fo-wah dinnah t’nite fo-wah yah mothah and myself. Had to straighten that out, yah know??Sure dad. Ok.
Another time I called, and he answered all happy like a kid on Christmas morning that just unwrapped a Red Rider bb gun. Mah-grett! I’m at Mah-ket Baskit an’ they got green beans fo-wah 89 cents a pound! Can yah believe it??
After hearing so much of this famed grocer, I decided to try my luck last winter. As luck (or the devil) would have it, I chose to go on a Saturday, to the largest Market Basket in New England. I should have known it was going to be a cluster fuck after it took me 25 solid minutes to find a parking spot in a blizzard.
I entered the mega store and suddenly I realized my chest was becoming tight and I could only see directly in front of me; people were literally swarming this place as if bees in a hive. I walked down one isle dazed and looked to the person behind me who had TWO carts, completely full with such unhealthy SHIT, I only remember seeing orange Fanta. The people in this store weren’t shopping, they were hunting, and trying to best their fellow man at getting the cheapest Styrofoam wrapped beef they could get their hands on.
Seriously: it’s as if the radio, tv and online media outlets all proclaimed: BOSTON: DDAY IS UPON US. ALIENS ARE SET TO INVADE THE ATMOSPHERE IN 60 MINUTES. THERE ARE MASSIVE TORNADOES HEADING TOWARDS THIS GREAT CITY AT ANY MOMENT. MT. FUJI HAS ERRUPTED AND WILL DEVESTATE OUR GREAT LAND all on that one Saturday. Sure sure, I know it’s a great priced market—but there is something to be said about leisurely taking your time up and down aisles pondering what you will be making later that day on the stove. There is something to be said for being mindful of where the produce is coming from, and how the packaging affects us and the earth. (Keep in mind, I have on more than one occasion spit out gum from a moving vehicle, I’m no saint, nor to I claim to be as good to this earth as I should.) But this mayhem was just too much for me and my nerves. I actually made it down one whole aisle before I internally cried mea culpa. I mean, what was I thinking? I can’t even go into Marshalls without being overwhelmed.
I will never, EVER make the mistake of going to a Market Basket again. I’ll pay extra to keep my sanity and not have fucking panic attacks. Even if the green beans ahh only 89 cents a pound.