Monday, May 02, 2005

Whole Foods = Weird Freaks?

I live around the corner from Whole Foods and I love it. It's such a great store and I go there way to much. Seriously, way to much. The Whole Foods (WF) on P Street has often been cited as one of the catalysts for the rejuvenation of the east Dupont-Logan area. Five years ago, this neighborhood was a mess. But you plop a Whole Foods in and all of a sudden the gays are there, the Embassy staff, the yuppies, etc. It really was responsible for turning the neighborhood around. And that's not to say that there still isn't a little bit of "transition" going on. There are still a bunch of old time shops and stores that look pretty ratty. And the day workers hang out in front of the old Duron store that's going to be replaced by new condos. So the folk who go into Whole Foods really run the whole gamut of society and that's one of the things I love about it. Usually. This weekend? Not so much.


Saturday AM. I'm pumped from my session with the person trainer. It's a bit rainy and I've got a rain slicker on and I've got my MP3 player going and just good with the world. I stop into WF to get a post workout protein fix. I grab some food and as I'm heading back out to the street, I hear very clearly over the music in my headphone. "FAGGOT." Again, my music is not that loud and I know what I heard. So I turn around to the scraggly, kind of scarey black man behind me, "Excuse me, what did you say?" Probably a little bit loud since my headphones are still in. "I didn't say nothin'" he says. "Yes you did. I heard you say Faggot." "I wasn't TALKIN to you," he snarls. "Well then who were you talking to?" I snarl back. The endorphins from the gym are finally kicking in and I'm just a little bit pissed off here. "None of your God Damn business" he yells at me. "Then I suggest you keep your comments to yourself," I say loudly back to him. "Oh, and have a nice day." And with that I turn and walk away. Okay, first of all do not even try to pull that crap on me. I can kick your ass even after being punished and abused by my trainer. Second of all, it's f&%king 1030 Saturday AM. Who do you think is going to be at Whole Foods at that hour? Local crackheards? Keep you bigotted comments to yourself or nextime if will be some muscle head who may pound you into the concrete.

Sunday PM. Went to JRs with a friend. After a couple of drinks (okay 4), I decide to go to WF to get some bread so I can make a sandwich with some left over veal from lunch on Saturday. As I'm looking around the bakery, this guy starts talking to me. I've seen him before. We went out once but not so much. Tonight he's looking ragged. First of all, who wears sunglasses in WF at 8PM at night? That should have been my first clue. And he's just a chatty Cathy. Telling me all sorts of stuff I don't want to know (the number of hair transplants he's had). He asks me if I'm going to Cherry next week. Cherry is the big DC circuit party. I tell him yes, but not exactly sure to what parts. Then he asks if I party. I tell him no. I've got a security clearance and drugs really aren't a good idea. Then he tells me that I need to take G. That's GHB. That all it does is make you horny and sweat when you dance and then it's out of your system. And that's how he's lost all of this weight. Okay, so I finally catch a clue. He's flying. Really high. All of the "weight he's lost." Yeah, newflash buddy, but you haven't lost a lot of weight. You're still pretty big. Plus, he's juggling this plastic container that has enough tuna pasta salad to feed Ethiopa, plus a big coffee pound cake thing, and then some other things. I'm thinking this is the post drug binge eating. Yeah, that's why the G isn't working for the weight loss. I finally escape, but it was just a weird night.

Lesson learned? Need to shop at the Soviet Safeway more.

0 Comments:

Post a Comment

<< Home