Coop Spy: Going For Broke

Okay, I admit it.

In the interest of broadening her knowledge, introducing her to the joys of organic escarole and cheese, getting her to stop calling me and my peeps (peebs?) retarded, I invited Erica to be my guest this morning at the Park Slope Food Coop. Who knew that the place is harder to get into than a fucking swiss bank vault?

We had to go upstairs and sign her in, complete with photo IDs all round before we could enter the hallowed halls.

But, we put a decent foot forward, we coopretards, especially the loudspeaker announcement notifying us that a beautiful glove (mine!) had been retrieved from the egg area and placed in the lost and found. We're not all bad. We just want some fennel, okay? And a good deal on Divine chocolate gelt.

So, she came, she saw..she even bought a t-shirt (see above). And it was a good deal. Only $9.79.

[ed note: true story...all of it].

Allison is a writer/housekeeper in Park Slope who doesn't like to write about herself in the third person but will for the purposes of this brief bio. She lives with her often beastly but always lovable offspring, her self-declared long suffering husband, a dog, 14 fish, and a morbidly obese cat. She (Allison, not the cat) is a dissident member of no less than three Park Slope coops, and has saved up a decade of curse-laden rants for just such an opportunity as this.