Is there organic police?

My heart races and my palms sweat the exact minute I put on my nervous smile, take a red cart and walk right into Trader Joes. I am not kidding.

Who do I think I am?

I feel like I am walking right past all the lines of people through the airport security metal detection scanner without waiting my turn, taking my shoes off, or my wallet out of my pocket and not stopping. The alarms are ready to scream any second and I will be found out.

I literally feel like the security camera has zoomed right on me and the Trader Joes’ FBI is watching me from one of those dark rooms upstairs.

                                                                                    “Weight?

Body Fat Percentage?

Cavities?

Recycling bags?”

We have a fake. Send down the decoy.”

I fake smile and nod to the patron next to me and pick up packages looking like I am reading the ingredients with things they are selling that say things like this:

I am really only  there to get some type of chocolate covered something or dried yum. So I slowly inch my way over to all of those cookies and treats on that high shelf over “Soycutash.” (If I brought that home my family would laugh like it was some kind of joke then dump it down the disposal!)

I don’t think I have ever lingered longer than…6 minutes tops. I know the Trader Joes’ plain clothed police wearing crocks, jeans, and a flannel is going to find me, surround me and publicly  embarrass me by checking my purse for Burger King Ketchup packets or heaven forbid non-organic broccoli stuck in my teeth.

The check out at Trader Joes is the final obstacle to cross.  It’s not normal. Where is the moving belt, that is wet from raw chicken juice from the person in front of you, at the check out at a regular grocery store? Trader Joes does not have one of those belts! Another thing is bells are always ringing. I jump each time, then smile like I know exactly what that means because I’m a legit member, right? I do the Hawaiian shaka sign.

Keep calm I am nearly out! Their checkers can sniff an imposter and use guilt to make us buy one of their reusable Trader Joes bags.  If you don’t they will stare at you to see if you sweat and if you do they push the button under the cash register which will shine the big light on you and everyone stops in the store to recognize you are non ORGANIC and do NOT belong! Then the entire store will carry you out back and dunk you in hydrogenated oil that is sitting out back in the dumpster.

I ask for paper. I’m not a rookie.

I made it out alive again today. Pecan Pralines and Milk Chocolate S’mashing Smores with Graham Cracker and Marshmallows are always worth the risk.

As I quickly got in my car, checking behind my back I noticed someone hiding in the bushes way in the corner of the parking lot smoking. They had a reusable bag to show they faked legitimacy, too. Probably first timer.

I am okay about owning Lucky Charms and Oreos. I eat healthy I promise. But I can’t afford organic foods. And I have no idea what Cacao Nibs even are. But sometimes I have to take a huge chance, take that walk on the wild side and enter Trader Joes. Because the treats are calling to me…and I feel such a rush when I get out alive and drive away…and not in a Prius.

 

 

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