bulk food section

David’s full of insight lately, let me tell you.

If you haven’t been won over yet by his theories, be sure to check out his thoughts on what makes a news story go viral.

Next up: the most dangerous section of your grocery store.

First, I’d like to note that Dr. Oz has a most informative article on his site about the Supermarket Secrets that Can Make You Sick, and while he does address the bagel bin (don’t even get me started on what is often found at the bottom of the bagel bin), he did not address the bulk section. So David feels it’s incumbent upon him (meaning me) to let you in on this.

“Old people in the bulk section at Sprouts are more dangerous than unattended children,” he declared as he hoisted 4 bulging recycled grocery bags onto the kitchen counter.

I kind of tuned him out. Because I thought that was just kind of a mean thing to say. Right?

But, apparently, I misunderstood.

“You don’t understand,” he clarified. “They eat right out of the bins, and they push carts through the store simply so that they can have the handle bar to rest their teeny tiny cup of complimentary coffee on, so the carts take up the entire aisle while they test stuff and then put what they don’t like back in the bin.”

I suppose the silence had him concerned that I wasn’t listening. But I was listening. Just unable to respond. Because I was trying to process the fact that my days enjoying the bulk section were over.

“Do you realize,” he continued, clearly taking advantage of the fact that I was indeed listening, “that I had to forgo purchasing my almond clusters because I looked in that bin and thought, ‘What if that one was touched?’ or ‘What if THAT one made it to someone’s MOUTH and then they decided they didn’t like it and put it BACK?’

“And then, I thought, ‘Well, I could do what Liz does, and grab the item from the back or, in this case, the bottom. But what if the person before me did that and so now what was on the bottom is now on the top and vice versa and I’m just unknowingly contaminating myself?’”

“It matters not,” I flatly stated. “We are done with the bulk section. At least, we are done with clusters, nuts and trail mix. And if you ever see anyone eating almond flour or sea salt out of their hand, we’re done with that too.”

This whole situation has kind of ruined us. But I’ll look on the bright side: after 13 years of marriage (I think it’s been 13), it’s comforting to know that we still have that one germaphobic thing very much in common.

newspaperI had an interesting experience on Facebook last night.

And by “interesting,” I mean “terrifying and violating.”

Long story short, I uploaded a picture up that I thought was hilarious, and that was receiving hilarious comments on other people’s timelines, and for the first 18 minutes, the comments I received were not only plentiful, they were—as I expected—hilarious.

And then it got frightening.

Because people I didn’t know began posting some rather, shall we say, lewd responses. And they were coming in so fast that I was simultaneously thinking, “Why can’t I get this level of participation when I have a jewelry sale?” and “OHMIGOD CLOSE THE CURTAINS LOCK THE DOORS BUY A BURQA (ONLINE BECAUSE I’M NEVER AGAIN LEAVING THIS HOUSE) AND GO BACK TO RELATIVE ANONYMITY RIGHT THIS VERY SECOND DELETE DELETE DELETE!”

Right about then, David asked how things were going with the post, and when I told him that the post was no more and why, he suddenly got pretty knowledgeable on me. And by “knowledgeable,” I mean that he became a surprisingly right-on know-it-all.

“Go look at the comment thread on any ‘Top story of the day,’ and you find the exact same thing,” postulated my media-phobic, Facebook-avoiding, procrastination-friendly life partner.

What followed had me laughing so hard that my abs are seriously done until 2013.

“Please. Share,” I sarcastically responded.

“Forget the article itself,” he suggested. “Scroll right to the comment thread. The first comment is almost always racist or otherwise hateful.”

“Really?” I asked, “because I — ”

“Then, comments 2-10 are undoubtedly a bunch of idiots trying to politically correctly reason with the first commenter by saying things like, ‘Oh, sir, I don’t think you really understood ARyan420′s comment…’ or politically incorrectly disagreeing with the first commenter using at least one gasp-inducing word that will undoubtedly compel Commenter #3 to comment as though anyone gives a shit.”

By this point, I was bent in half, holding the rectus abdominis region of my abs.

“The next 22 comments involve statements such as, ‘Shut up you idiot’ or ‘Go back into your hole’ followed by the pound sign and PeaceLoveDove’ or something.”

“Um, that’s called a hashtag,” I corrected, now holding my external obliques. “And — ”

“And frankly,” he continued, “by that point, I’m trying to decide what’s more offensive: the fact that someone took the time to write those things or that I’m taking the time to read them!”

I think he’s seriously on to something. Take the comments on this clip from People.com about Heidi Klum and Seal‘s breakup.

First comment

“Who cares how you told them. Poor kids! In 2 weeks People Magazine will run an issue showing both of them with other people and they’re dating again.”

Second comment

“Ouch, come on People, Fat Bankers Hate Messages should not be accepted. I’m all for free speech but that’s hate!!”

It’s so yuck. So instead of spending any time wondering what makes a product, story, or headline go viral, I’m simply going to go back into my own hole and be glad no one’s talking about me in People this week.

 

Could someone please explain to me why no one has developed an App that does THIS?

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