Hungry? Self-Conscious? Do you have an allergic reaction to glutens? -- If you answered yes to any combination of the aforementioned, then we have something in common my loyal compatriot, You eat at Whole Foods, too.
Fear not, for wheat-product-induced hazes are a thing of the past; why don't you try the quinoa. Any post graduate, investment banker (with a the paycheck to support living close to a Whole Foods) can find solace in a freshly baked slice of pizza and a wing of buffalo. Personally, I need my sushi to be brought to me via conveyor belt -- now if there were only some high-end grocery store/cafeteria hybrid in lower Manhattan...
A Proposal For John P. Mackey, Chairman and CEO of Whole Foods Market, Inc.
Dear Mr. Mackey,
Thanks for taking the time to read my modest proposal. I can only imagine how busy your days can be, between all the cutting of plastic six-pack holders, and the boardroom displays of environmental elitism, it's any wonder how you find the time to...I don't know, recycle?
Now its obvious that your fine establishment knows more about guiltless eating and shopping than most retailers, and being the guiltless consumer that I am, it only makes perfect sense that we join our forces, with the greater intention to leave the consumer marketplace with one-hell-of-an environmental tramp-stamp.
Mr. Mackey, make me the new face of Whole Foods. Not only do I eat there at least five meals a week, but also am the one to throw away the backed-up pile of recyclables that fill the entire fucking cabinet under the sink. They don't actually get recycled, but just get tossed down the trash chute. As a man who understands the critical importance of energy conservation, you don't really expect me to take all those bags down to the recycling basement, do you Mr. Mackey? I can wear your t-shirts everywhere I go, provided they are American Apparel, of course. I'll stack my 2008 soapbox right on top of my 2007 soapbox (Dr. Dog), and like the disciples of an edible Jesus, will exult the praises of your excellent cereal assortment. With one lung-filled blast of Ani DiFranco from my Ram's Horn, I shall summon my Mango Chutney Militia , and the streets will run opaque tan with Chickenless Chicken Noodle Soup. Let me be your Edamame Succotash lobbyist, for I sire, bleed green.