What Happens at Meijer Stays at Meijer…

Shopping for groceries. 

Remember Sisyphus? That dude had to roll a boulder up a mountain and when it got to the top and it rolled down he had to do it all over again. 

For eternity. 

Now we endure the modern day version. 

You look in the fridge and pantry. Items need to be replaced. You drive to the store. You pick up each item off the shelf and put it in your cart. Then you pick up each item and place it on the revolving belt. Then you pick up bags of items and put them in your trunk. You drive home. You pick up bags of items and take them inside. Then you pick up each item and put it away. 

By the time you can even eat the food, you have touched it 5 times already and all you want to do is order pizza. 

Most of my relationships didn’t even last that long. 

And then, several days later you are doing it again. And again. 

For eternity. 

Did you ever notice that grocery stores are designed like casinos? No windows. No clocks. Winding sections designed to make you walk past more stuff and be tempted to buy it. They trick you. You walk in looking for milk and the next thing you know you have a set of camouflage floor mats in your cart along with an over sized dog bed. 

And you don’t even have a dog. 

So if they’re going to give us the devious aspects of casinos, then they should give us the perks too. 

I want someone to randomly come up to me as I’m straining to reach the last box of Cinnamon Chex (seriously, that is the ONE Chex that is always out) and ask me if I’d like a 5 minute massage. 

I want a waitress to notice that I’ve been in the same produce section for 20 minutes turning the strawberry containers over looking for ones that won’t mold before I get home and offer me a vodka cranberry. 

And, wouldn’t it be nice if they have you comps for being a regular customer? Not crappy coupons for Skippy when you only buy Jif, but like here’s a free cat coffee mug. A gift card to Starbucks. A U-Haul and Sherpa to take everything home and unpack it for you.

But let’s not stop there. I want to wear dark glasses and headphones and gamble on the store brand canned clams. Heads I survive, tails I vomit for days. 

I want to drop in to the recycling station to watch a show by the entertainer in residency (surely Richard Marx is available?)

The grocery store could become an attraction. A destination. A place where inhibitions are left at the electronic doors. 

Now THAT’S what I call MPerks. 

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