If only all stores would be so forthright:
I hate supermarkets--everything about them--and the more responsibility I take back for my own food supply the more dysfunctional the whole concept of the supermarket seems to me.
The supermarket: A building with a huge ecological footprint, situated in a vast sea of concrete and accessible to most people only by carbon-spewing transport devices.
The supermarket: An enormous repository of wooden, tasteless and nutritionally-devoid food-like substances.
The supermarket: A giant chemical and pesticide warehouse.
The supermarket: Where there's competition amongst all the thousands of products to see who has travelled the farthest ("I'm ground beef from Argentina." "Well so what. I'm a bulb of garlic from China!"
The supermarket: Designed to bring out the absolute worst in people. Think I'll park my shopping buggy here in the middle of the store exit for awhile, just for the joy of watching everyone struggle to get past me. And when I get out to my car, which is in the spot right up front (because I circled round and round the lot twenty times to land it), I'll just leave my cart right there cozying up to the car in the next space (you know, the one with the immaculate paint job) because really I am so special and I can't be bothered with such trivial matters as returning a cart to its carrel.
The supermarket: That paragon of efficient, just-on-time delivery which always manages to be out of the item I need the most.
The garden: An organic, pesticide- and chemical- free zone producing mountains of tasty and outrageously nutritious food just steps from my front door, and offering bounteous amounts of fresh air, sunshine and exercise in an environment totally devoid of rude and stupid people.