UN-CO-OPERATIVE

Well blow me down if the Big Co-Op isn’t actually bigger (I think) than it was before! Ingeniously, they’ve found new and exciting ways to stack as much foodstuff as high and as tightly as possible, and, in a move that would appeal to the short-armed tall people out there, they’ve reduced the aisle widths to about 1.5 wheelchairs - presumably the exact minimum legally required.

I hate that the modern world makes me so cynical. I’d much rather believe that McDonalds and Costa and Starbucks put things like ‘Warning: this coffee might be hot!” on their packaging out of kindness. In fact, I’d like to believe those companies do anything out of kindness, but you can understand why I’m not so sure. Cynical.

The new Big Co-Op’s all the wrong way round too. Instead of aisles perpendicular to the front, they’re now parallel, which means they’re longer, and not quite as snake-like. My own view of that is that it depletes the soul of it, removes something of the community you really want in your local shop. There’s a very blue emptiness about the new Co-Op. I think.

Though I might just be in a mood because I have no idea where anything is.

Time will tell though. We’ll probably run into the folks we know, plus the usual mix of school parents with kids who are embarrassed at seeing their teacher somewhere odd. Perhaps we’ll stop and chat, perhaps there’ll be moments in that new Co-Op that make it feel more like a hub for community than a warehouse of special offers.

And the Big Co-Op remaining the Big Co-Op has helped me out. It can keep its name, and we can reference our multi-co-operative-laden village grocery stores with just the same humour and precision as before. And I can grumble about being cynical too, if I like. The shareholders, God bless ‘em, never seem to mind as long as you leave via the tills.