If there is
anything I truly miss about America, it would be Wal-Mart. That big, ugly, blue
and orange logo suspended on a shapeless, warehouse-like building rising behind
a blacktop crowded with cars. I admit, it’s ruined me for any other grocery store.
That’s a sad statement, especially for a girl born and raised in New Orleans
who ought to have some respect for “making groceries” at the French Market. (Insert
heavy sigh here.) But to have back the low prices and convenience, not to
mention the free shopping bags that will later double as trash bags. I find
myself pining almost daily for Wal-Mart’s promise of only one large
grocery-shopping trip per week.
Yet I carry
on. I’ve learned that most body-care products are found in pharmacies,
something every little town, no matter how small, has three or four of all
within a few blocks of one another. I’ve also accepted that groceries are
fundamentally for food only. I suppose the little shopping centers possess
their own sort of charm. There are the little convenience stores like Spar,
just across the street from Trinity. They’ve got cool drinks, a nice selection
of yogurt, and a small bakery if you’re late to the buttery and don’t feel like
walking too far for breakfast. Then there’s Marks & Spencer, a larger
grocery in the basement of a clothing store. (This seems to be a theme in
Ireland, but I’ll get to that.) Granted, I consider M&S a bit deficient for
their lack of crackers, but they make up for it with their decent selection of
frozen dinners, most of which are low in calories. I try to look on shopping in
these specialty stores as a kind of adventure—a hunt for the store that carries
just what I need. If it weren’t for the huge crowds, crazy drivers, and sirens,
I’d say it was like shopping in a small town.
There. I’ve
tried to put a positive spin on it. But still, I cannot describe the giddy joy
I experienced the day I discovered Dunnes’ basement super-store. It’s not that
I hadn’t been in the mall multiple times. I’d even bought a few T-shirts, a
poncho, and washcloths from Dunnes. For some reason, I had just never ventured
down that escalator. But there it was—shelves lined with a real selection of
cereals and snacks, including my favorite brand of crackers. They had an
acceptable isle of body care products and even sold beach towels. While still
marveling at my discovery, I saw a little girl pointing to the cookie isle and
asking her mom for a box. Thinking the little girl had the right idea, I
selected a bag of chocolate, caramel, and almond cookies and, along with my box
of crackers, went to pay at the check-out. Now I’d say I pine a little less for
Wal-Mart.
Megan, you are going to have to mention you are comparing Wal-Mart where you live (New Orlean) to shops in Dublin. You never once mention locale. That is important. You have to ground the piece in place.
ReplyDeleteIt is important to ground your reader in place very earily in the narrative. Dr. McCay is right, you don't mention Dublin. Ou need to treat each post as independent and able to stand alone.
ReplyDelete