This afternoon my colleague and I went to a packaging-free supermarket. From the outside it's such a clever idea. To say I experienced the dark underbelly of nude foods earlier today is an understatement. I found myself subject to a ploy most unsuspecting patrons wouldn't be aware of.
There, in the middle of the supermarket, sits a fridge. It's packed with conscious treats, one of those being a gluten free roti. Any gluten-sensitive person scarcely gets to eat a roti, so I was hooked. Anyway, I order the roti, but it's kinda small.
Worried I might not be full enough, I order a salad, sit down, fiddle about with the new plant I had just bought, and wait for my dish. That's when a fucking mountain of falafel and Romain arrives. Jesus, this plate was full, and I had just eaten a roti -- plus, I can't waste food at this establishment, otherwise I'd have to name my kids Forrest and Acacia (so from they're woke from the womb) just to remain carbon neutral.
To sum it up, this supermarket suckered me in with odd portion sizes in an attempt to enslave me via guilt. I will be going back tomorrow, but it will be on my own free will.
Why I feel this story is relevant to Cody Currie's "Oderberger" is that unsuspecting listeners might only be searching for a bit of groove, only to find themselves a bit overwhelmed, and a bit mentally understaffed. My pro-tip: don't eat a roti before having this salad.
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