Dear Whole Foods Shopper,
I first noticed you walking slowly behind me as I rounded the hot bar buffet at the Union Square Whole Foods. I always notice when there is someone hovering dangerously close behind me. I like my space while I decide what I’m going to fill my recycled carton with for dinner. I’m a salad bar frequenter, and I’ve had a few untoward encounters there — one time a man literally tried to have a conversation with my vagina as I loaded up on tropical beet salad.
As I turned around, to see who was encroaching my personal shopping space, I noticed your vacant smirk (like you just passed gas), your hoodie, your dirty, puffy down coat and your thick, black sunglasses. This was a strange detail considering it was dark outside. I didn’t think to look down. Instead, I thought, Oh, a vagrant at Whole Foods. Because if you didn’t already know, NYC Whole Foods are hot spots for people who want to take a shower in a free restroom. Hey, if I was hard on my luck, I’d probably hang out at Whole Foods, too. There’s free, organic hand sanitizer and lotion. Win, win! My point is that, I didn’t think much of you circling the salad bar. I let you shuffle around me without a thought.
Shuffle was a deliberately chosen adjective. You were shuffling in quite a strange way. It wasn’t until I saw another female shopper’s face that I realized why you were shuffling. As she rounded the corner from the hot buffet to the steamed veggies a la carte, she turned pale. A look — a mixture of horror and surprise — spread across her face like vegan aioli. That’s when I looked down and saw that you, sir, were COMPLETELY NAKED from your waist to your kneecaps. You were shuffling because your ripped jeans and soiled boxer briefs were riding very low.
It took me a moment to get my druthers because, well, your penis was fully exposed and I saw it. I realized that it must have grazed my shopping basked while you were walking dangerously close and that’s why you were smirking. My farm fresh blueberries would have to be put back on the shelf. The weird part is that only two people out of, um, maybe 500 shoppers had noticed you in your pantsless glory. Everyone just kept pushing around you, excusing themselves, as they rushed to get their specialty products before the delivery cutoff time. Whole Foods employees included! There was an employee whose job it was to tell customers where the end of the express line was –all the way back past the salad bar at rush hour. Even HE didn’t notice you shuffling around with your penis swinging. So, I alerted him.
“Sir, there’s a naked man at the salad bar.”
“OK,” he replied, as if I told him they were low on almond milk.
“No, I don’t think you understand. His penis is exposed.”
“OK,” he said again, “I’ll alert security.”
Whole Foods has a security team? He didn’t move, he kept manning the end of the line while you filled your recycled carton with tofu, mung beans and Thai beef salad. (I was curious about what your were going to choose, so I took note.)
The image of you, filling your recycled carton, with your penis grazing the metal buffet, was what made me decide that maybe the Whole Foods salad bar wasn’t on the menu for me anymore — last night or ever again. I suppose I have you to thank for putting an end to me spending exorbitant amounts of money on organic veggies.
I made my way to check out, as quickly as possible, making sure to say excuse me to you, just like all the rest of the Whole Foods shoppers, while you adjusted your penis to the left and continued to load up on Japanese eggplant.