Whenever I go home, one of my favorite things to do is go to Dierbergs with my mom. I mean, what could be better–I get to peruse the aisles, put things in a cart, NOT PAY, and then load everything into a CAR, get driven home, and then haul everything 12 feet from the garage to the kitchen. Compare that to my weekly battle in New York where I walk 10 blocks and an avenue, fight a battle in each tiny aisle, put things in a basket, PAY for my groceries, and then haul them 10 blocks and an avenue and up three flights of stairs.
Plus, look at this store. It’s gigantic. The aisles are so wide and clear of boxes. There are so many options. A row that is entirely tomato sauce! All of those frozen options. And dairy. Produce! Booze in the store! And an aisle devoted to chips. Sigh.
If only New York could be like the midwest.
Hello? I Forgot My Mantra. 