This is my actual review on Yelp.com of my local Jewel (1341 N. Paulina Ave, Chicago, IL)
I don't know how to say this. This store.... Well, it sucks. Plain and simple. And not sucks like a stubbed toe. No, sucks like non-consensual intercourse with a rabid wildebeest. Sucks like being gored to death by a horde of rampaging pygmies. It smells like an unholy combination of fermented toe jam and whale vomit.
Escher could not draw a more confusing store layout if he tried. Two full aisles right in the middle of the store are devoted to all things not grocery, such as paper towels, garbage bags, and fanciful little paper plates. Why are these not in the Osco? The sugar and flour...they must have been mean to each other on the ride over and are now in different sections to keep them from combining into fluffy baked delights. Beef salami chubs? Still haven't found them. I've been looking since April. I even had trained bloodhounds looking. Bread that has not been mushed by thousands of grubby mitts apparently does not exist in Jewel-world.
On the best of days, the produce selection looks like a yak has been grazing there. On the worst of days, it looks as though the lettuce personally insulted the yak's mother and the entire produce section was consequently mauled in an awesome display of raw power The tomatoes are unripe, the lettuce, overripe. Carrots seem to hang out in about 4 different sections, but they always look surly and I'm vaguely frightened they may hold up my milk once I get the into the fridge at home.
The meat section has that "I'm pretty sure last night ended in a drunken tirade outside the Liars Club" look to it. Beef, chicken, pork? What's the difference? It should all be mixed together by our patrons making it impossible for you to find the ground beef that's on sale. At least none of the meat is green. That's probably because the blinding light from the 1,000,000 candle power ceiling lights has scorched my retinas beyond repair.
The clientele...for a while, I had difficulty telling the hipster guys from the hipster girls, but that may have been due in large part to the plethora of screaming children running around and banging carts into me, completely being ignored by the mouth-breathing parents. Kids: Shut your screaming mouth before I cram that thing of Poptarts so far down it you end up wearing it as a diaper. Oh, and maybe try saying "Mom? Could you please buy Poptarts for me?" instead of "MA! BUY ME DESE!" Parents: Pull their pants up. Put a clean shirt on them. This is not the IGA in Toad Suck, Arkansas. And smack them if they use that kind of language again.
The employees are actually the shining star here. Apparently the concept of a "line" is beyond some folks, and they will wander to the front of the self-checkout line and waltz right up to the first open till with nary a "Oh I'm sorry, were you waiting?" Thanks to the intrepid self-checkout-monitor-person, this inconsiderate cretin will find themselves sharply reprimanded and sent to the back of the line wearing a dunce cap.
So, to summarize. Get a Fresh Values card and go to your local Dominick's. The one on Clybourn just north of Fullerton smells of all things gourmet and has beautiful people, food and help. Give it a shot. You'll thank me.
I don't know how to say this. This store.... Well, it sucks. Plain and simple. And not sucks like a stubbed toe. No, sucks like non-consensual intercourse with a rabid wildebeest. Sucks like being gored to death by a horde of rampaging pygmies. It smells like an unholy combination of fermented toe jam and whale vomit.
Escher could not draw a more confusing store layout if he tried. Two full aisles right in the middle of the store are devoted to all things not grocery, such as paper towels, garbage bags, and fanciful little paper plates. Why are these not in the Osco? The sugar and flour...they must have been mean to each other on the ride over and are now in different sections to keep them from combining into fluffy baked delights. Beef salami chubs? Still haven't found them. I've been looking since April. I even had trained bloodhounds looking. Bread that has not been mushed by thousands of grubby mitts apparently does not exist in Jewel-world.
On the best of days, the produce selection looks like a yak has been grazing there. On the worst of days, it looks as though the lettuce personally insulted the yak's mother and the entire produce section was consequently mauled in an awesome display of raw power The tomatoes are unripe, the lettuce, overripe. Carrots seem to hang out in about 4 different sections, but they always look surly and I'm vaguely frightened they may hold up my milk once I get the into the fridge at home.
The meat section has that "I'm pretty sure last night ended in a drunken tirade outside the Liars Club" look to it. Beef, chicken, pork? What's the difference? It should all be mixed together by our patrons making it impossible for you to find the ground beef that's on sale. At least none of the meat is green. That's probably because the blinding light from the 1,000,000 candle power ceiling lights has scorched my retinas beyond repair.
The clientele...for a while, I had difficulty telling the hipster guys from the hipster girls, but that may have been due in large part to the plethora of screaming children running around and banging carts into me, completely being ignored by the mouth-breathing parents. Kids: Shut your screaming mouth before I cram that thing of Poptarts so far down it you end up wearing it as a diaper. Oh, and maybe try saying "Mom? Could you please buy Poptarts for me?" instead of "MA! BUY ME DESE!" Parents: Pull their pants up. Put a clean shirt on them. This is not the IGA in Toad Suck, Arkansas. And smack them if they use that kind of language again.
The employees are actually the shining star here. Apparently the concept of a "line" is beyond some folks, and they will wander to the front of the self-checkout line and waltz right up to the first open till with nary a "Oh I'm sorry, were you waiting?" Thanks to the intrepid self-checkout-monitor-person, this inconsiderate cretin will find themselves sharply reprimanded and sent to the back of the line wearing a dunce cap.
So, to summarize. Get a Fresh Values card and go to your local Dominick's. The one on Clybourn just north of Fullerton smells of all things gourmet and has beautiful people, food and help. Give it a shot. You'll thank me.
1 comment:
you absolutely crack me up. why no more ranting and raving? give me the benefit of being away from my computer, thus no reply. :)
Post a Comment