Contemporary Seinfeldism #1

The Fred Meyer Entrance.

Which one do you choose: Electronics, Home Maintenance, or Produce?

Personally, I can't associate with anyone who'd pick plywood or carrots over the metallic allure of digitalia. Interesting to note, then, is that my parents never fail to park well outside the right-hand entrance to Freddy's (which we all know is Home Maintenance, since every Fred Meyer everywhere maintains identical floor plans). I say "well outside" because they seem to enjoy avoiding door-dings more than the actual shopping itself. Perhaps more absurd, then, is the fact that we always walk straight through the Home Maintenance section to wherever it is we really want to go. Only the Halloween season, with its nightmare-warped latex and confectionery explosions, proves HM's aisles too tempting to pass. Oh, and once I bought a venus flytrap from the plant section.

Last weekend, I was riding comfortably in the backseat of a friend's car. Said friend had a thirst for errands that only Freddy's could quench, and soon the establishment's formidable Eugene parking lot spread before us in all its near-empty, Saturday-morning glory. Where to park, where to park?

She chose produce.

Now, in all fairness, her selection could have had everything to do with the portion of the parking lot we entered from the main road (which did place veggies closest) and nothing to do with personal preference... but I doubt it.

What makes Electronics the best option? After all, Fred Meyers' gaming and audio selection constitutes pure drivel, and its hyper-sensitive theft detectors habitually embarrass me more often than they ever must nab crooks. I suppose my answer, then, is twofold. First, entering in the middle allows Freddy's, a haven of one-stop-shopping, to envelop your senses in all its consumer-fueled glory. Nothing feels more blissfully American than being able to stand in a single position and, with proper neck-craning skills applied, absorb myriad stockpiles of goods ranging from Apples ( red delicious; produce) to Zebras (stuffed; games and toys).

Second, its kid's playplace occupies a cubicle (which I'm pretty sure used to be a part of the men's room) directly after Electronics' bins of discounted DVDs. Enough said. I loved my time spend in that carpeted cage from ages 4-9, and on a dimly subconscious level I'll make any excuse to walk back by. That's not creepy... is it?