I once had the opportunity to attend a seminar on Catholic dating practices for singles, in which this particular self-help novelist hawked the virtues of “smart dating” and the ease of uncomplicated, hassle-free post-marital sex. (Yippy for them. Not sure how that helps us…) Of her cogent, ten-point system, Chapter 6 particularly caught my eye, in which the author asserts “Why Hooking Up is for Losers.” I quite like this terminology, for a number of reasons, many of which are glaringly obvious to you, so I’ll spare you my explanation. While I was regrettably unable to attend said seminar, due to a previous Happy Hour engagement, (seriously who schedules something between the hours of 5:30pm and 8pm on a Thursday), it inspired me to begin my very own list of "What Else is For Losers." In addition to hooking up, I'd like to assert that Whole Foods is, without a doubt, #2 on this list.THINGS THAT ARE FOR LOSERS
#1. Hooking up.
#2. Whole Foods.
And here is why. First of all, Whole Foods is a total victim of Wal-Mart complex. It’s become so huge and chocked full of brand names and varieties, that grocery shopping becomes a veritable nightmare. It’s like shopping on Oxycontin or Nyquil: you walk around, aisle after candy-coated aisle, eyes glazed over, numb to the myriad choices and colors tap-dancing around you. Organic. Certified Organic. 100% Organic. Gluten-free. Cage-free. Certified Humane. Fair Trade. Probiotic. Vegan. Shadegrown. Locally grown. Grown from a wombat’s marsupial womb. And they’re all just begging to jump into your basket, they’re literally jumping off the shelves, and you start feeling guilty about that nasty carbon footprint of yours, and whether taking N-train to work and living in your 400 square-foot shoebox actually makes up for the fact that you still don’t compost, and before you know it, you’ve either walked out with things you will never need, let alone consume, or you find yourself on the street empty-handed and hyperventilating into a Euro-mesh sack. Except that’s not even possible. Because it’s freakin’ Euro-mesh sack. It’s a mess in there, I’m telling you. Secondly, even if you pop a few Ritalin and really get down to business, you’re going to end up leaving with a bill the size of a Pink Elephant tab. I’m going to let you in on a little secret: Unless you’re hosting the house party of the century, there is never EVER reason for a single person to spend more than $60 on a week’s worth of groceries. There are so many other better things in life to spend your money on. Like beer. Or shoes. Or bikini waxes. Really. Get yourself together here. Unless you have kids, there’s simply no need. And third of all, whoever said Whole Foods is the best place to meet that hot Mr. Somebody is a flagrant liar. Fresh markets are supposed to be a breeding pool for well-heeled, nerdalicious hotties, as though “organic” and “vegan” somehow translates into “nice guy with marriage potential.” Mom-grade approved. Please. I’m over it. Whole Foods is a breeding ground for angry, neurotic people in a hurry. Believe me, there are more than a few unsavory breeds of New Yorker in the Whole Foods these days. Predominantly working moms who’ve forgotten that it’s their kids’ bake sale day, and they need three dozen packaged-so-they-look-homemade cookies before 3:00pm. And it just so happens to be 2:52 – yeah, I’ve been there. Does that seem like the type of shopping environment ripe for romance? I didn’t think so.So if Whole Foods is For Losers, what, you may ask, is the alternative? I have two, count ‘em, TWO viable options, my friends, the first being Trader Joe’s.
Ahhhh Trader Joe’s. Like pre-packaged manna from heaven you bring food to us singles in small, microwavable servings. You, with your Hawaiian stoner charm, your cheery hibiscus, your pallet board simplicity. What the joint lacks for in space, it more than makes up for in charisma. And ease. And tan, tousle-headed surfer cashiers. True, the place can get jammed, especially on a Sunday afternoon, which is primo shoppingtime, and, yes, its only location is all the way (gasp!) in Union Square, but with a careful attack plan, this is probably the best shopping scenario out there. The problem of brand confusion is completely eliminated, since there is only ONE. Plus each product is carefully chosen by Joe, himself, so you’re shopping guilt-free. You never end up spending more than sixty bucks, no matter what you end up buying, and good old Joe even cut the onslaught of healthfood verbiage by marking products with easy-to-read symbols. Vegetarian food is marked with a simple green plant. Vegan food? A letter “V.” Kosher? “K.” That way, you only notice if you actually give a sh!t and the rest of us can just enjoy the colorful pictures. And while you may be shopping bumper to bumper, at least you’re excited about that hottie you’re getting all hot ‘n bothered, pressed up against. ‘Cuz people who shop at Trader Joe’s are dead sexy. It’s true. You’re just standing at the produce, minding your own business, and all of a sudden some Grade A hunk of American beefcake is stumbling all over your kiwis… Oh I’m sorry, I was just squeezing this melon... Oh hey there, think you could hand me that bag of edamame? One brief encounter in the frozen section, and would you look at that, you got yourself a date on Saturday night! Wham bam thank you ma'am. Onestop shop, that Trader Joe’s.
But you do need a foolproof plan to traverse the place on Sunday afternoon. I recommend tag-teaming it, since the lines sometimes wrap around the stores three or four times. Here’s how you swing it: Bachelorette #1 mans the mini-cart, you know, that sexy lil’ compact model perfect for nipping at the heels of any potential bachelors. B1 rolls right onto the end of the line as soon as she enters the store, hugging the periphery to stock up on produce, breads, meat, cold cuts, dairy, and finally cereal. Bachelorette #2 runs reconnaissance, picking up frozen and packaged goods up and down the interior aisles, dropping off the cargo as B1 makes her way down the line. Not only is this the most time-efficient way of shopping, but it eliminates any potential conflicts over the aforementioned hotties roaming around the establishment. B2 gets the aisle-dwellers and B1 gets the peripherals. Case closed. No negotiating. Switching roles every other shopping trip ensures you get a good mix of both. The last thing you want is a brawl between bachelorettes, which will inevitably land you both out on you’re a$$es, sad, single and utterly grocery-less. Trader Joe’s is no place for violence, my friend. It’s all capital P-A-Z in Traderland. (That means peace.)
If you do find yourself banned from TJ’s for life, your second best option is the local food stores right here in the neighborhood. If anyone’s ever walked 5,000 blocks with a week’s worth of groceries in hand, you know that the best store is the closest store. Unless it’s a C-Town or a Food World. I mean, who in their right mind goes to a grocery store called C-Town? Sketchy people, that’s who. Trust me on this one; if the store sign across the street has any superfluous punctuation or 2nd grade geography vocab, you’re better off hauling it over three avenues for a Key Food or something.
But you do need a foolproof plan to traverse the place on Sunday afternoon. I recommend tag-teaming it, since the lines sometimes wrap around the stores three or four times. Here’s how you swing it: Bachelorette #1 mans the mini-cart, you know, that sexy lil’ compact model perfect for nipping at the heels of any potential bachelors. B1 rolls right onto the end of the line as soon as she enters the store, hugging the periphery to stock up on produce, breads, meat, cold cuts, dairy, and finally cereal. Bachelorette #2 runs reconnaissance, picking up frozen and packaged goods up and down the interior aisles, dropping off the cargo as B1 makes her way down the line. Not only is this the most time-efficient way of shopping, but it eliminates any potential conflicts over the aforementioned hotties roaming around the establishment. B2 gets the aisle-dwellers and B1 gets the peripherals. Case closed. No negotiating. Switching roles every other shopping trip ensures you get a good mix of both. The last thing you want is a brawl between bachelorettes, which will inevitably land you both out on you’re a$$es, sad, single and utterly grocery-less. Trader Joe’s is no place for violence, my friend. It’s all capital P-A-Z in Traderland. (That means peace.)
If you do find yourself banned from TJ’s for life, your second best option is the local food stores right here in the neighborhood. If anyone’s ever walked 5,000 blocks with a week’s worth of groceries in hand, you know that the best store is the closest store. Unless it’s a C-Town or a Food World. I mean, who in their right mind goes to a grocery store called C-Town? Sketchy people, that’s who. Trust me on this one; if the store sign across the street has any superfluous punctuation or 2nd grade geography vocab, you’re better off hauling it over three avenues for a Key Food or something.Yours truly? I count myself blessed to live in the close vicinity of the new Bravo located on 34th Avenue. http://www.bravosupermarkets.com/ It's clean, it’s organized, and the closest thing we got to what the 
rest of this world regards as a real supermarket. I’ve seen shopping carts 2-deep traversing those aisles. True, you sometimes have to hold your breath past the fish counter, and the frequent-buyer’s discount card never actually discounts anything, but this is a small price to pay for a decent selection at a fairish price. I typically use the Bravo for all the hefty purchases you dread lugging home from TJ’s, you know, your milk, your juices and any canned goods; things that don’t travel well through turnstiles and up and down subway stairs. Produce is always a win-lose situation: While the Bravo quality is great, it’s usually worth your extra buck to trek it to the 24-hour United Bros. Fruit Market on 30th Ave.
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rest of this world regards as a real supermarket. I’ve seen shopping carts 2-deep traversing those aisles. True, you sometimes have to hold your breath past the fish counter, and the frequent-buyer’s discount card never actually discounts anything, but this is a small price to pay for a decent selection at a fairish price. I typically use the Bravo for all the hefty purchases you dread lugging home from TJ’s, you know, your milk, your juices and any canned goods; things that don’t travel well through turnstiles and up and down subway stairs. Produce is always a win-lose situation: While the Bravo quality is great, it’s usually worth your extra buck to trek it to the 24-hour United Bros. Fruit Market on 30th Ave. View Larger Map
But what you gain in savings, you lose in preservatives, so it really all depends on how fast you eat your veggies. There’s no sense in walking all those extra avenues if you end up tossing your 69-cent rutabagas two days later.
Another benefit to the local supermarkets, is it gives you a chance to flex your coupon clipping skills. While TJ’s brilliantly ousted the middlemen, keeping prices low and rendering coupons obsolete, (Joe, you sly devil, you!), Astoriastores accept ‘em all. It may seem, at first glance, that clipping coupons could be For Losers, or maybe grandmas, but really? It’s simply the coolest. All the hip kids are doing it, and if you pay attention and cut along the dotted lines like good little children, you’ll save oodles of cash on all the normal things everyone buys. You know, like toothpaste and soup, detergent, cereal, and Newman’s Own salsa. You usually end up saving the amount it takes to buy a Super Grande Mochacaramalatto at Starschmucks or two superior cups of joe at D&Ds.'Til next time, all my coupon clipping winners...
-WILLA K
