So yesterday I got a little long-winded talking about Barnes & Noble and poop-themed Amber alerts, but promised that I’d deliver the other half of that today.
And here it is: My C.R.A.P. review of Whole Foods.
You ready to do this?
Of course you are.
Let’s do this.
Whole Foods on the corner of South and S 10th Streets here in Philly is pretty close to where I live. We go there because like many urban sophisticates, we’re drawn to over-priced beef that was raised listening to NPR and The Daily Show.
Whole Foods sure is purdy, what with its nice lighting, natural grocery bags and tattooed workers. Not sure about your Whole Foods but the ones at ours all look like human distressed jeans–their bodies just look all worn-in and wrinkled already. Oh, and they have zippers on their faces.
Anyway, the review:
Cleanliness: No NPR and John Stewart here (thank God). The bathroom looks more like somewhere you’d see Anderson Cooper reporting from. It’s one of those single-serve bathrooms with the standing toilet, a large sink and a paper towel dispenser. Also, there’s a plunger next to the toilet and, if I recall correctly, a sign about “PLEASE FLUSH THE TOILET” or something like that. Uh, not good. Plus I think they advertise that their toilet paper is made from “82 % recycled goat sack”. Dear god, what’s the hand soap made out of???
Both times I’ve been there, the toilet had a wet seat, meaning that at least one of those times, I used a move I call The Force; with sheer will power, I hovered my ass over the toilet. It’s like I’m Obi Wan Can Dookey. The strain on your legs is rough, but it makes the release oh-so-sweet.
As a matter of fact, I propose that they start using this technique in superhero/spy movies where the hero gets captured–it seems much more effective/tortuous than the whole “laser slowly climbing to your nads” bit.
“Do you expect me to talk?”
“No Mr. Bond, I expect you to get toilet herpes.”
Want more fun? While doing this maneuver pretend you’re an old U.S. bomber dropping bombs on the enemy. Make airplane noises. Bomb sounds. Scream, “Ratta-tat-tat!”
Take that, Mao Ze Dung!
As Anderson Cooper says, “Just keeping them honest, guys”. +4
Remoteness: The Whole Foods restrooms are located in the back, square center of the store. It’s down a little hall where most of the workers emerge with food supplies, crates and black market Thai babies for Center City yuppies (and they’re still over-priced). It’s fairly easy to miss, though if you’re operating on Code ORANGE like I was one time, your heightened senses will probably lead you right there.
You could probably also sneak some reading material in there too, though Whole Foods’ idea of reading material seems limited to Real Simple and “Pamphlets About How Awesome We Are And Why Your Parents Were Whores For Taking You To Superfresh As A Kid”. So…..+6
Access: It’s easy to get in there. There’s two of them. The odd thing is that there’s always a wait to use the restroom there. I mean, even the times that I’ve been there and not had to use the bathroom, I still see people waiting, leaning against the wall, gripping their stomachs and trying to look cool about it. The other downside is that some of the people waiting in line are, well, how can I say this? They are, as the French say, “prettyfuckingweirdlooking”. It’s hard enough to chit-chat with someone when you both know you’re there to take a dump in a grocery store, but especially hard when the other person has bolts in their face and elongated ears. The good thing is that you could Code RED right on their hipster clothes and no one would notice. +6
Privacy: Well, there’s two bathrooms. And there’s an alleyway that’s sort of off the beaten path. But then there’s the fact that once you’re done, you walk out and see your neighbors who are like, “The Kids…did you just take a dump here at Whole Foods? Wait til I call this into This American Life.” BUT, there’s nothing that says that you can’t take food into the crapper with you. Ever wonder what it’s like to have goat cheese and crackers while you’re dumping? Wonder no more. +6
Total C.R.A.P. Score: 22