Okay, I’ll admit it: maybe you long-haired, organic-loving, hemp-wearing, eco-friendly free range hippies are on to something with this “Whole Foods” thing.

See, last night, very spontaneously and very much in line with the obsessive mental disorder I probably have, I decided I wanted to dabble in essential oils; I’d been reading something earlier in the day about grapefruit oil and how, when paired with a carrier (or base) oil like grapeseed, was supposed to be very beneficial to oily skin. So, ever in search of the perfect skincare product, I latched on to the idea of, “I can do that!” I also settled on a few other oils I wanted to try out and away I went!  (Reluctant husband in tow.)

Unfortunately, the Vitamin Shoppe nearby was rather poorly stocked. The sales associate very nicely informed me that they typically only carried four or five oils at a time and tended to sell out of them quickly. (Which makes me question their inventory methods but what do I know?) When I asked him where else I could get oils, he mentioned a few places, including Whole Foods.

Ah, yes. Whole Foods.

(Or, as Lindsey likes to say, Whole Paycheck.)

There’s one about fifteen to twenty minutes from the college campus. Up until recently, it was actually the only one in this area. (The next nearest was in Tampa, on the other coast of Florida.) Naturally, it was situated in between the uppity college kids and the ridiculously wealthy. In the eight years I’ve lived in Orlando, I never ventured forth into the Land of Hippiedom, mostly because, holy shit, you want how much for a banana? Organic gummy bears?

Surely you understand.

But, because I was so singularly focused, the husband and I found ourselves pulling into the Whole Foods parking lot, surrounded by Toyotas from the early 1980s and, ironically, SUVs. We stepped in and were immediately assaulted by all the stereotypes we’d come to associate with Whole Foods; I think, out of everyone there besides my husband, I had the shortest hair. And that’s saying something!

As we crept forward, a little terrified, our unease was quickly replaced by shock and awe. The Whole Body area was stocked to the rafters with all sorts of products! There was an entire shelf dedicated to Tom’s of Maine toothpaste! The essential oils were bountiful and well-stocked. My eyes roamed over shampoos, soaps, mouth washes, moisturizers and more. For a beauty junkie such as myself, this was a feast of ichor and honey! (And lots and lots of tea tree oil, interestingly enough. Tea tree oil mouthwash, y’all.)

My husband was rolling his eyes at me, urging me to hurry it up, until I started wandering through the food aisles.

And then he found the meat area.

If there is one thing you can say about my man, it’s this: he loves his meat, in a completely heterosexual way. Beef, chicken, salmon, tuna, you name it. And Whole Foods knew. Huge slabs of fresh meat, very much in the style of a butcher shop, and he was smitten. His shit talk dried up mighty fast. (As mine had minutes before.)

The rest of the store turned out to be just as impressive. A large selection of wine, beer and cheeses left us salivating and the ready-made foods section actually looked appetizing. (The buffet, not so much. Ugh. There’s just something about congealed tofu tikki masala that just doesn’t do it for me.)

As we stood in line to checkout, I whispered very softly to my husband, “I want to come back.”  He looked at me, eyes wide, and nodded in agreement.

I wonder if I can have my paychecks direct-deposited to Whole Foods.

Filed under: shopping