Why I Love Safeway

I like to go to Safeway. Sometimes just to look at the fruit. Apples piled up in a symmetrical pyramid, each one round and gleaming. Lemons pressed firmly together in beautiful yellow stacks, in front of large round watermelons, each emerald green rind slapped neatly with a Certified Organic sticker. Every fruit, so colorful in their variety, has its place here. There is order, and I like that. 

I go to Safeway, sometimes just to walk down the aisles. The plastic-y floors are always shining. The clicking of passing carts is soothing. I reach out and gently touch a can of Campbell’s chicken noodle soup, then let my palm slide down the row as I continue to stroll, my fingers tracing the smooth rounded labels, feeling the coolness of metal against my skin. It grounds me. 

I go to the freezer aisle, where the gentle whir of air conditioning creates a mechanical lullaby that soothes my restless mind. Through the rows of polished glass, I see my reflection, a nervous, lanky teenager, quietly strolling by. Ben & Jerry’s, Breyer’s, and Haagen-Dazs, all stacked neatly one by one. If I take one out, another identical one pops right back in its place. Everything stays just as it was. The order in the freezer aisle is quietly preserved. 

Back in produce, I once again admire the balanced pyramids of fruit. In the apple section, a bulb of garlic stands out among the green and red array. Who will tell it, that it is so out of place? I pick up the peeling white stalk, place it back in its compartment. Because everything has a spot in this place. There is order. And that is why I love it.