au naturel

It’s been months since I’ve had the pleasure of wasting time wandering through the mecca of bourgeois bedroom-community hippies. I ventured off on an early half-hour lunch, determined to procure overpriced organic comestibles to squirrel away in the break room fridge and feed on for the remainder of the week.

It was larger, brighter, better-stocked than I remembered. Aisle after aisle of chilean produce, argentine steer, grain-fed poultry. Exotic chocolate. Co-op cheeses. Your ancestors ate this. Your ancestors would have eaten this if they could. Soy, whey, whole grain, wheat-free, gluten, egg-white, whole fruit, unsweetened, in its own juice, naturally packed, flash-pasteruized, from the source, free-range, unbleached, live cultures, vitamin-enhanced, cream-top, homemade. Only the washed hands of migrant workers touched this product. This was made in the USA. This was not made in the USA, because ethnic people make it better. We consulted tribal elders in the free-trade of this coffee. No animals were hurt in the production of this packaging. We tested this on humans. Lettuce soap, tomato toner, rosemary shampoo. Lord, that’s expensive – but how can you put a price on inner health, outer radiance?

Good god, Whole Foods, I’ve missed you. $32 later and I feel healthier already.