Tale of Two

My early Saturday morning ritual of completing my grocery shopping before the break of dawn has wobbled of late. My primary shopping happens at a fairly large grocery store (Big A). It has a cheese and deli section, a bakery, a coffee shop, a restaurant, a meat department, a pharmacy, a wine and spirits department and aisles and aisles of everything from avocados to zwieback. Now there is the new kid in town (Little B). Due to a number of reasons, not the least of which is my mushy brain of forgetfulness, I am darting over to Little B after my first grocery run so I can pick up a few more items.

Little B muscled its way into the neighborhoods of some pretty big players in our city's grocery world. On paper, Little B should be tucking its tail between its legs and leaving town by now, beaten into submission by the Alpha dogs. Not only has that not happened, Little B is thriving. The two stores I visit are radically different in tone and philosophy.

Big A is open 24/7, humming away with hordes of worker bees. I recognize a few of the early morning bees but for the most part the ever changing crew is busy doing their thing as they rub the crudlies out of their eyes and hope the next shift arrives on time. The produce department is often just starting to clear out the overnight detritus when I arrive. I make it a point to check the temperature of the grapes. Warm means stay away, cold means purchase. The produce guy is a bit of a grumpy cat and prefers to focus on banana purging and leafy green placement. The personal shoppers scurry around with their beeper guns, loading carts with groceries for others. The ends of the aisles are stacked up with boxes, ready to be unloaded for the next big rush. The checkout counter is usually manned by one lone teenager who drew the short straw for shift assignments. Said teenager often struggles with identifying produce as I give him tutelage on pear varietals and the difference between a shallot and an onion. I feel like I hit the jackpot when there is someone to pack my groceries. If I start packing my own groceries, a manager sometimes steps up to the plate for a mercy packing.

Little B is open from 7 a.m to 9 p.m. and steadfastly closed on Sunday. When I arrive at Little B, promptly at 7:00, the front checker chirps out a cheery hello. The grapes are always ready and cool to the touch. The meat department is an open concept with butchers bantering back and forth as they prepare meat for the day. When I want a soup bone, they know what I mean and I am rewarded with a nice beef shank. Checkout is usually with the cheery one and she asks me if I am making soup when she sees the shank come through. She immediately calls for assistance if someone needs help taking groceries out to the parking lot. And then she thanks the assistant for helping out up front. I admit that I cannot help but smile when shopping at Little B.

One would think that Little B is my grocery store of choice. And it is for the small town feel it gives me and the warmth of service it provides. But, I also appreciate Big A for all the shopping options it offers. The beauty of having two grocery within a few blocks of my house is that I have choices and I am not forced to choose one or the other on a regular basis.

And the best part of all is that I don't have to face the bleary-eyed teenager at Big A again when I realize I forgot something during my first shopping go-around. I just head to Little B and they think I have my act together.