This is the first letter I've ever written to a grocery chain. But I must plead my case and respectfully ask you to please save me from Wal-Mart.
Because you do not carry Birds Eye Voila meals, which are easy, delicious (even to my somewhat particular husband) and shamelessly courting my business by giving away Peanuts DVDs, in order to purchase them, I must brave the atrocities of the evil empire.
What atrocities, you ask?
-The giant parking lot, filled with grackles, which are the bain of my Texas existence. After I park (narrowly missing being sideswiped by someone as eager to leave as I will be) out in the hinterlands, I sit in the car and wait until I see a large group of people that I can walk with and that will sufficiently camouflage me from said grackles. This plan is foiled, however, when cars zip through the parking lot, refusing to yield right of way to pedestrians, and I am a standing, waiting target for their swoops, plunges and caws.
-Once safely inside the store, atrocities continue, as fellow shoppers carry the side-swiping trend to a new extreme cart level. I don't completely blame them, however. Unlike you, wonderful Kroger, this store has inexplicably narrow aisles that do not allow more than one person to comfortably browse.
-After spending almost an hour veering in and out of aisles, avoiding the crazy drivers and desperately searching for my list of items, it becomes clear that despite the plethora of Voila meals, Wal-Mart does not carry Greenies (a staple in Fred's household), my carpet cleaner or a decent selection of fruit.
-They do, however, carry dish detergent. Lots of it. So much, in fact, that it is no big deal if one of the extreme cart drivers drops a bottle of this, scattering its green goo across the aisle. No big deal. No need for clean-up. Or a sign warning someone like me, who is totally focused on her list and not on the floor, that you could slip. And slip I did, catching myself on the cart, which kept me from completely busting my tail, but which also propelled me forward, sending me skiing down the aisle, hanging on to the cart for dear life, leaving a trail of green goo in my wake. At least I provided some much-needed entertainment for the fellow extreme cart drivers.
-The atrocities culminate at the check-out. While you, Kroger, consistently have plenty of lanes open and move customers through quickly but without rushing us, Wal-Mart has approximately two lanes open on each end of its giant store, with lines stretching back to the green goo detergent aisle. (At least I had time to update my Facebook status with "Wal-Mart is the devil.") The cashiers, meanwhile, seem shocked--shocked!--by the use of one coupon and a new-fangled thing we call a debit card.
When I finally made my escape, I swore that I would do my part to avoid returning again to the store which will no longer be named. So, dear Kroger, if you will only start carrying these Voila meals, I will be able to do all of my grocery shopping with you and avoid the above atrocities. I will ignore your somewhat higher prices and slightly limited quantity of clothes and electronics and will pledge my undying loyalty and appreciation.