I am having flashbacks to elementary school.
Eight-year-old Alec walks into the cafeteria.
Stumbles back.
Looks around in what can only be described as fear-filled awe.
And thinks, "Dude. Who turned my lunch room into a blood drive symposium?
"Get those cookies away from that pint. Of BLOOD. I have to eat mashed potatoes and stringy turkey here in a few hours."
People. Please.
Let us not do that to our grocery stores.
At some point, we pay a price for convenience.
Case and point: Walmart.
Alternate case and point: Frozen green beans.
Thank you.
And goodnight.
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