The Market 32/Le Chopper Kiada

 

It never stops. Let me preface this jeremiad with a few empirical facts. I am a 71 year old male who has asthma; I have had it since I was a Dallas twelve year old. I have arthritis. I have irritable bowel syndrome. I have fibromyalgia. 

I try to keep in “shape”, whatever that means when one is in the autumn of his life. What it means to me is that I do yoga and I walk around Lincoln Park across the street from me when the weather permits. I also walk to the Market 32, also known as Price Chopper, popularly known as the Ghetto Chopper, about a mile from my house on Delaware Avenue in Albany, once in a while, when the weather permits.

Well today I walked up to the Delaware Chopper and boy was it an experience. I took some PRICE CHOPPER brand seltzer bottles to return at the wonderful full of nasty odours automated bottle, glass, and can return centre at the Le Chopper. It is one of the biggest and one of the nastiest of these things I have ever encountered. When I put a Price Chopper seltzer bottle into the return tunnel it, at first, popped back out and the machine said that they did not take these plastic bottles back. I tried again—it was a bloody Price Chopper product after all—it ate the bottle. It did not, of course, give me credit for a nickel. Weary of this crap I through the other bottle away. Perhaps someone who needs it more than me will make use of it.

This wasn’t the only joy I experienced at the Delaware Chopper today. While shopping I discovered that one of the things I came for—Noosa strawberry/rhubarb yoghurt—was not in stock on a MONDAY though it was on sale. They did have the Lay’s crisps/chips at $1.99 a package if you purchase three, the other thing I came for. 

I learned several lessons at Market 32 today. I learned that the Chopper will have salt regularly but not necessarily sugar. Let’s take a moment to marvel at the brave new digital world distribution and stocking system. I learned that automated bottle, can, and glass return systems are sometimes crap. All hail new digital age lets lower labour cost capitalism, a capitalism that is mediocre at best.

On another what the bloody hell matter, we have a replacement postperson for awhile. He/She delivered the mail for us 236, to 234 and the mail for 238 to us, 236. I delivered the mail to the right address. Isn’t modern life wonderful?