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Star Market

3 Jan

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I have thought about doing a blog about Star Market before, but really didn’t think it would have enough substance to get more than 4 sentences out of it. But here I am, third sentence in, and I’m feeling pretty optimistic about this. After work last night, I ran into Stop & Shop real quick to pick up some chicken and asparagus for dinner. Only I got so into picking out a marinade that I completely forgot the asparagus. I didn’t realize this until I was home. I was bullshit because I was really craving this asparagus with a new kind of olive oil I got. I don’t know who the fuck I think I am, getting all excited about new oil and asparagus, but I was upset nonetheless. I decided to run back out to the supermarket so that I could have dinner prepared when Ryan got home. I know, best girlfriend EVER. I’d say “fiance”, but I strive to not be a douche.

Once in my car, I weigh my options. Stop & Shop and Star Market are equal distance from my place, but after the commute from Boston at 4:30pm on a weeknight, I was in NO mood for Newport Ave. traffic. At least with Star Market, I could drive out of the parking lot, all the way up President’s Lane, take a few minor turns and end up in front of TJ Maxx. Stop & Shop’s route  has all those God awful red lights.  The only problem is that Star Market is for the birds. And by birds I mean ripping white trash. Not to say that Stop & Shop is the classiest, if you’ve ever had to pee really bad and went into the bathroom there, you’d know that it’s far from. But it beats out Star Market, hands down.

In the end, Star Market wins, and I race over there. Once I cross the line into Quincy Center territory, I immediately feel like I fit right in because I have been driving on a donut since Christmas Eve. This makes me sad, and I make a mental note to chug wine while I cook after my errand. I get VIP parking, probably because the majority of people who go to Star Market take the bus, thus opening up parking spots for me to buy asparagus last minute. I go inside the dimly lit store, zipper my North Face up to my mouth, as though this makes me undercover, and beeline it to the produce section. This is when it dawns on me that I am about to purchase produce at Star Market. I cry on the inside while I search for the asparagus.

Once I find and inspect the asparagus thoroughly, I head to the  cash registers. I noticed that there was really no one in the store, except for maybe 2-3 cashiers and 5 customers. I notice that the busiest section of the store seemed to be the frozen foods section. I assume this is because poor people eat a lot of Tina Burritos. Then I recall that Ryan enjoys marshmallows in his hot chocolate. And not the marshmallows that come in the hot chocolate. He likes to put the marshmallows in himself, the preferred manchild way. I decide to be an even better girlfriend and look for marshmallows. First I check the coffee aisle, assuming they may be next to the boxes of hot chocolate. No dice. Then I check the candy aisle, again, nothing. I search for a clerk on the floor to ask for assistance. No one. Place is a ghost town. And it’s prime weekday shopping time: 6pm. The working mom gets off work and hits the grocery store before heading home to slave away at the stove. So I would think. There is no one in the store at this point except for 2 wiggers, a cat lady looking bitch, and two guys behind the deli. I forfeit and head back to the cash registers.

Once at the registers, I decide I will use self check out because cashiers are basically a dying breed. Seriously, if it weren’t for the fact that half of customers are two thirds to retarded and cannot figure out how to scan their own produce in self checkout, there would be no more cashiers. Maybe 1 or 2 clerks standing around to scan their magic cards when the self scanners fuck up, but that’s about it. So I throw the asparagus on the scale, then look at Star Market’s self scan technology in utter disgust. There is an avatar showing me how to scan my groceries . Pffffhhhhh! I don’t know how that’s considered trashy, but at this point, anything in this place is “trashy” to me. They could legit have Jetson’s style, state of the art self scanners, complete with robot baggers and I would still turn my nose up in disgust, because I am an awful person who needs to be slapped for complaining about self scan technology. At least I can admit it.

On my way out there is a crackhead standing by the door, talking on his probably Boost mobile cell phone, probably about crack related details. “Where are all the girl scouts?!”, I wonder as though I actually purchase cookies from them on the regular. “Oh, they probably are not here because the crackhead has claimed his turf at the door already.” I walk to my car, hearing “fahkin’ this!” and “fahkin’ that!” from the crackhead’s mouth grow further and further away. Once in my car, I notice a friend of mine in the rearview, heading into the store.  We make eye contact so I know I have at this point been totally busted shopping at Star Market. “Shoot!”. I pull out of my space and open my window to say hello. He says that he is just headed in to get some chicken, and I say “Oh, cool, well blocking white trash traffic, gotta run!”, and drive off. I think to myself, “Well, at least I’d never get poultry from Star Market”.

I’m a bitch. But Star Market is the Boost mobile of supermarkets.

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One Response to “Star Market”

  1. Anna January 3, 2013 at 8:16 pm #

    Not your best Molly. At this point Quincy is considered trashy, as a whole. Stop and Shop, Star Market, it doesn’t really matter. You know this girl!!

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