Shopping at the Ghetto Kroger

OK, so if you don't already know, I live in the Ghetto. By that I mean I am what some folks call an "Urban Pioneer". OK, still don't get it? I live in a neighbourhood where I am considered the cream of the OREO cookie, or should I say the generic chocolate flavoured cookie.

In any event, the Kroger (local grocery chain in the south) is the closest place for us to shop. That's not to say I can't drive to hoity-toity land (where I used to live) and shop in a real store, but proximity is important when you are tired.

This evening I had to run to the store to get some staples and a "thank you" card for a "friend" of my dad's (more about that in another rant-a-log). She sent me a cookbook and it was the least I can do, but I didn't think it would be an issue buying a card at the grocery. Little did I rememeber that I was looking in the "ghetto" Kroger. Now, most of the time, if you need a card from the grocery, it's no bid deal, however, today was a different experience. First, there was not one card in the slot it should have been in, i.e., the "wedding" cards were in the "sympathy" section - OK maybe THAT was not an accident - but in any event, it was chaos trying to find the right area. Once I finally found the "thank you" area, the cards were mixed and so were the envelopes. Thank God my mum taught me to always check to see if the envelope and card fit.

Well, enough about my stupid idea to buy a greeting card at ghetto Kroger. However, let me enlighten those who are clueless as to other aspects of ghetto Kroger:

Number One: You can ALWAYS find enough pig-feet for any occasion. Having a family reunion with 300 people, including your Uncle Gus? Pig feet fit the bill every time. If pig-feet aren't enough and you're lookin' for variety, don't forget to stop by the hamhock and gizzard sections - my mouth be waterin' as I write. Yummy, can I have some chitlins', too. Don't forget the kidney gravy. And Americans have a problem with haggis because????

Number Two: Rotted tomatoes are a show stopper. Nevermind that any dim-wit, buttface can grow tomatoes eight months out of the year in their own backyard in the south, but ghetto Kroger makes sure their supply is efficiently rotted so you can spend five dollars a pound to be proud.

Number Three: The assortment of cheeses is astounding. France is a distant fourth in the type and quality of cheese that ghetto Kroger provides. There's mild cheddar, sharp cheddar, and very sharp cheddar. If you're very lucky, you can find some mutts-a-rella, but I ain't got no clue what to do with this. Maybe waterproof the roof?

Number Four: Melted ice cream is a real treat. Considering most folks don't have air conditioning in the ghetto, why bother freezing the stuff in the first place? If you do find it frozen in the store, be sure that when you get it home, you scrape off all the freezer burn before poisoning yourself.

5) The pregnant, toothless, teenage cashiers add a real sparkle to my shopping experience. Every time I see "Shaniquala", or "Diamnondiana" or "Asskissmyfatassa" and they ask me, "What dis be?", I always smile back and tell them, "Oh yes, that is a rare vegetable called a potato."


Well, that's enough of a rant about ghetto Kroger. I'm finding that by publishing it in my blog, I'm less likely to go postal on my roommate when I get home. Hail, little Bro, for the blogger into.