Random Thoughts From Within a Bath Robe

A few things: Krogerering at midnight is the best type of Krogering. What would your entrance music be if you were a Major League Baseball player? Wouldn't you rather have your dying words be a hilarious joke or gag than some prolific statement about love?

Let's go.

I'm an avid Kroger shopper. I don't feel comfortable in any other grocery store. The Pig seems a little run down, Whole Foods is great, but the yuppie/smug factor is a big time turn off. Kroger is not too hot, not too cold, but just right. My favorite thing about Kroger? Well, besides the sheer volume and range of delicious produce, it has to be that most Kroger's stay open all damn day and all damn night. If I want a cup of sliced watermelon, some Hot Pockets and a home pregnancy test at 3:45 A.M. by God I can get them all in one convenient, well lit location. I can't think of any event that kills my boredom and hunger/thirst/hygienic needs better than a late night visit to that big blue sign in the sky. Peace and comfort envelope me as I stroll through the aisles in my flannel jim jam pants and flannel bed shirt usually not having a clue what I'm searching for, but with the utmost confidence that I'll know it when I see it. Last night it was a plastic cylinder of creamy chicken noodle soup and a six pack of YooHoo(the blog's spell checker is advising me that I've misspelled BooHoo, making me long for an ice cold bottle of BooHoo. If only it existed.) When I'm Krogering late night I feel like a grown up kid all alone in a candy store for adults. There are all sorts of fancy vegetables and cheeses, not to mention a respectable selection of domestic and imported beer and wine. Sometimes I just hang out by the olive bar and gawk. One day I'll be rich enough to fill a whole Kroger sack full of mozzarella cheese balls and stuffed mushrooms...one day. One day I'll be able to push a buggy full of goat cheese, Havarti and Dom Perignon through the check out aisle and pay in straight cash. These are the thoughts that bedazzle and torment my mind as I peruse the aisles with a basket full of bologna and Iron Kids bread. One day I'll supermarket sweep that beautiful bitch, but until then I think I can be satisfied pondering my culinary possibilities under the harsh florescent glow of the lights in Kroger at midnight.

More musings to follow.