Lazy Self-Indulgent Book Reviews

I’m at Whole Foods, buying, like, food, when I see an employee setting up a large display at the end of the produce section.

I see numerous jugs of maple syrup. I am surprised.

I see large bottles of lemon juice. I am suspicious.

I see jars of cayenne pepper. I know.

Employee sees my Dolores Umbridge expression.

“Um, are you ACTUALLY putting up a Master Cleanse station?”

He looks tired, suddenly.

“It’s this, or have people ask me where the individual ingredients are for the entire month of January.”

We exchange a meaningful look of ex-retail solidarity, and I wander off, vainly looking for full-fat yogurt.