why-mart

endless views of cans and jars of sauce and gravy. free-to-use electric shopping-carts. “back to school : back to snacks” says the sign. chips and tacos, pocket-size sour cream. some clerks way over retirement age. some others younger than my youngest sister (and that’s a lot). no veggies, no fruits. frozen burgers, pizzas, buritos. “fat-free” burgers and corn syrup.

a smile on everyone’s face encourages you to behave and be nice. so you walk down the main alley, trying your luck on one side, then the other. you end up with a bunch of crap in your arms, because who really takes one of these plastic baskets when they get in? I try to figure out what the prices really look like (tax included). I give up after 10 minutes of too much maths up in my head.

stumbling towards the nearest cashier, I drop everything onto her counter. lucky I didn’t have eggs btw. she greets me, canadian-style. getting used to that quick: so not-french. our people behind those cash-registers wouldn’t even say hi sometimes… do not miss home right now.

pulled out my mastercard. got a weird look but a bright smile as usual. on my way out, a store attendant by the exit door waves and wishes me a good afternoon. man, these people are so kind it’s almost suspicious. you guys hiding some big dirty secret or what?