I'll grow old - but I won't grow up.

Wednesday, June 08, 2005

Cleanup on Aisle 904

I went into Sioux City’s new Hy-Vee grocery store today. Hy-Vee is a Midwest-based chain, which claims in their many ads to have “A Helpful Smile in Every Aisle”. Usually this is more accurately described as “A Smashed Dozen Eggs in Every Bag” or “A Dumb Mouthbreather at Every Register”. As you can probably assume, I’m not all that crazy about Hy-Vee. They talk a good game, but when it comes to service, they’re sorely lacking.

Anyway, this new store is supposedly the largest one in the entire Siouxland region. And it was big all right – you name it, they have it. Patio furniture, toys, 6-foot tall houseplants, color TVs, a portrait studio (I keep threatening Miss Katie to have her Senior pictures taken there), a bank, a video counter, a huge line of deli-style items (nothing homemade, of course – this is Iowa, not Manhattan), and oh, yeah – groceries. It’s not quite Super Wally World big – I didn’t see any rainbow-colored polyesther jumpsuits or car tires – but as far as regular supermarkets go, it’s got a lot of acreage.

But the highlight of this store (at least according to all the press reports this week) has got to be...are you ready for it?...

Hy-Vee’s New Colossal-Amazing-Cooler-Than-Hell Olive Bar!!!

Yes, Sioux City now has an olive bar – 16 varieties, in fact. Walk right up, grab a plastic carton, and fill it up with olives to your heart’s delight. Oooh! Aaah! Look out world, Sioux City has gone Mediterranean!

It’s amazing – most people in this part of the world consume four basic food stuffs: Frozen pizza, beer, taverns (i.e. – loose meat sandwiches – a disgusting rant for another day), and cigarettes. We’re not known as a community that cherishes such things as fresh seafood, foie gras, truffles, or 16-item olive bars. Oh, sure – there’s probably someone out there like me who has moved to this Hickville town, and this now-happy soul will probably appreciate having an olive bar. But for the most part? The locals wouldn’t know a greek olive from a greek gyro.

So I made my tiny purchase from the surly cashier, but I have to admit it wasn’t olives. Too bad – perhaps next time. And if I ask nicely, maybe I can have my portrait taken while scooping them up.

0 Comments:

Post a Comment

<< Home