Nobody Does It Better

 

 

It was almost 5 AM when Carl finished his workout. Carl headed for FoodNation to buy groceries for the day. Once inside, there was no mistaking the smell of freshly baked carbs. Carl smiled. He remembered an old cartoon where an enticing aroma was shown to lift a character off of his feet, draw him along and then place him in front of its enticing source. Carl decided not to be a cartoon character today.

Carl walked past his wafting imagination. He walked past the aisle of styrene-encased carbs and the men in knee pads reshuffling and restocking dated poly-packaged carbs. He walked past the sugar-covered carbs.

Carl walked past the frozen carbs, the cryopreserved carbs.

Carl walked past the aisle of processed ethnic food stuffs. Carl walked past the aisle of colorful billboard-boxed carbs. Each box proclaiming vast health benefits with every “great” bite. Carl walked past the cardboard-boxed dried carbs. Carl walked past the aisle of unembarrassed in-the-bag sugar. Carl walked past the aisles of incarcerated-canned vegetables and the hitting-the-bottle jars of preserved condiments.

And Carl walked past the fashionable colors of carbonation in the liquid sugar aisle.

Carl reached the water aisle and pulled a bottle of drinking water off the shelf. He smiled. Like James Bond he would live to die another day.

 

Carl had come to his health care senses a while back. At that time, he didn’t feel good or look the part of 00Carl. So, there was no doubt – he had to make some changes. And beside his own topology concerns there was one, no, there were many other prompters that changed his health habits.

Carl couldn’t help notice that many men and women were no longer walking. Instead, they were waddling. To go forward they would rock back and forth, shifting weight from one bad knee to the other in a slow, plodding fashion, as if pulling a sled full of lumber. Some of the living dead weight moved though FoodNation driving their immense form around in the motorized shopping carts with the appearance of a parody parade float.

When Carl reached the checkout counter that day he waited while up ahead liters of soft drinks, boxes and boxes of cereal, bags of treats and goodies and packaged preservatives force-fed the conveyor belts.

Once the motorized cart had been emptied of its contents, Carl placed the divider down on the conveyor. Behind the divider he placed his bottled water, a bag of walnuts, a carton of eggs, a bag of mixed greens and a salmon fillet for dinner. Carl had decided to invest in his future. He needed his legs to make a go of it.

 

The end. (But not for Carl.)

 

 

© Jennifer A. Johnson, 2017, All Rights Reserved

 Mission Impossible Theme..

 

 

~~~

When will a grocery store be designed for health instead of consumerism? Along the same line, have you noticed the horrible and often offensive background music?

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