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I’ve always heard that it’s good to fill out those online surveys at the bottom of your sales receipts because your chances of winning something are relatively good. In the case of Sobeys, who can’t use $500 in free groceries? I know I can!
So I sat down to fill it out a few minutes again. After the 10th page of rating from 1 (Very Dissatisfied) to 10 (Very Satisfied) my latest experience in their deli/meat/produce/fish/ethnic food department I began to realize why so few people fill these things out… or if they do, they probably don’t read the questions anymore, and simply click buttons in a hope of finishing the survey before they fall asleep at their computer.
Then I hit the page that asked my opinion of Sobeys as a company, whether their goals were in line with my own, whether I felt they valued me as a customer… really? Sobeys is a corporation… as much as I would like to pretend that they value me as a customer, I know they couldn’t give a rat’s ass whether I shop there or not. But then came the question that really set me off.
I can not imagine my world without Sobeys.
Until then my answers had been pretty good.. 7-9… But as soon as I read that statement, I didn’t even hesitate. I immediately clicked 1. STRONGLY DISAGREE. They should have stopped there, but the next page was one where you got to express yourself. There goes my chance at a $500 gift card…
“I can’t imagine my world without Sobeys” What kind of question is that? I like Sobeys stores. I’ve always shopped at Sobeys… but “I can’t imagine my world without Sobeys” seems a little pompous and insulting… I’m sure that this question comes from the company in charge of the survey and NOT Sobeys… it’s embarrassing.
I’m still annoyed by that one.
So…. I’m back on my “Healthy Improvement Plan”… or what I like to call Steve 2.0. I finally managed to get the treadmill put together recently. And by “I”, I mean “someone else”. But I supervised, so that has to count for something! And surprisingly, I’ve been using it for more than hanging my clothes on… as my poor roomie discovered when he thought the house was falling down, and realized that it was just me galloping along as a steady pace. Now, I warn him if he’s around. He thinks it’s so that he knows what the noise is all about. It’s really so that I have someone to call 911 in the event that my pulse exceeds recommended safety levels.
And what’s a new treadmill without new sneakers to tread with? I went into Foot Locker a couple of weeks ago, determined not to come out of there empty handed. My current sneakers were rotting off my feet. It was time for an upgrade.
There were two employees in the store as I walked in. Some guy who I barely registered as even being there… and a pleasant sales girl.
“I need new sneakers”, I explained as I pointed out the lovely holes in the sides of the ones I was wearing. “Nothing overly fancy… I’m not going to be running (Yeah, as if she hadn’t come to that conclusion on her own).. but I’d like to get back on the treadmill again.”
She took a pair of Nikes off the wall, and told me that they were very popular. They didn’t look too bad. Do they come in half sizes? Yes. Awesome. Do they have 10 1/2? Nope. I tried on the 10s and 11s, but they weren’t going to work. I needed the 10 1/2.
Then she handed me a different style. I didn’t like them as much, but I’m a sucker when it comes to these situations.
“Here, try these…” She slid a cute little rubber heel thing into the sneaker. “It’s for additional support”
“Yeah, but will it make me run like a gazelle?”
I stumped her. She obviously didn’t know if I was serious or not. She burst out laughing, but she just didn’t know what to say. Score one for Stephen.
Actually, they didn’t feel too bad. And anything that was going to take some of the shock out of my treading was probably a good thing.
“I’ll take them!” I told her.
Then she started to up-size my combo…
“You should really spray those with a sneaker spray before you use them. It will help protect them.. yadda yadda…” I stopped listening…
“Sounds good. I’ll take it”
Looking back, it’s a minor miracle that I didn’t leave there with my arms full of sneakers and a burning hole in my wallet. This girl probably could have sold me anything, but thankfully stopped after the magical sneaker spray. It wasn’t until next day that I realized that I probably didn’t need all this stuff, but hey.. all in the name of healthy lifestyle, right?
And a healthy lifestyle includes more than just a fancy pair of sneakers, and a shiny new treadmill. I have to start looking at some of the junk that I’m putting in my body. Yeah, I know.. I’ve talked about this before… on and off the bandwagon like.. I dunno.. is there anything that fits that sentence? But I think you get my point.
So yesterday I went to the City Market for lunch. I was thinking about getting a nice chicken salad sandwich, but I had been told that the Wild Carrot Cafe served awesome sandwich wraps. It’s not the first time that I’ve heard of the Wild Carrot Cafe, but I hadn’t put much faith in its ability to satisfy my hunger before yesterday. Its name doesn’t suggest “deep fried”, “trans-fat”, or “chocolate covered” anything. I wasn’t sure that they would even serve me.
“I’m sorry, sir. You seem to be mistaken. McDonalds is in the food court.”
As I stood at the counter and tried to look somewhat less awkward than I felt, I told the girl that I would like to try the chicken ranch wrap. On whole wheat. Wait, it gets better. With light dressing.
“Are those chickpeas?”, I asked… pointing at a container of something. “I’m told that I’m supposed to try those sometime.. might as well be now!”
When I came back to the office, the guys looked at me funny. Where’s the standard brown bag with the golden arches prominently displayed? Where’s the Coke? Where’s the beef? (Sorry, had to)
It was good! I quite enjoyed it, although I will admit.. the chickpeas add a different consistency than I’m used to.
As if that wasn’t enough, I stopped at Sobeys on the way home to pick up a few things. I bought several pieces of chicken, a European salad blend, a cucumber, and… wait for it… baby spinach. I’ve never bought spinach in my life, but I’ve seen it thrown into salads, and rumour has it that it’s good for me.
And if you haven’t already stopped reading from disbelief, I skipped the pop and chips aisle completely… which threw off the rest of my shopping trip because I was going up and down aisles in the opposite direction from that point on. I deviated from my regular path. I broke free of the chains of habit.
Half a chicken breast cut up with the salad, topped with sun-dried tomato dressing, and a big glass of milk… and I was full. I was quite surprised. The spinach didn’t taste bad at all. I plan on having the rest tonight when I get home.
Unless my body gives out prior to that from the sudden injection of healthy eating, and a lack of pure junk.
Oh, and if anyone needs any magical sneaker spray…
Dig out the flashlights! Dust off the candles! Stock up on soup and bottled water! There’s a hurricane coming!
A what? We don’t get hurricanes up here! Well, Juan was a freak of nature. But other than that, we get snow storms, not hurricanes. When God was shuffling the deck of natural disaster cards, we drew the Snowstorm card. Let those hurricanes, tornadoes, typhoons, earth quakes, raging wildfires, tsunamis, and murderous roving packs of dogs bother everyone else. We got snow! And frankly, as much as I hate shoveling the white stuff, I’ll take it over my house blowing away any day.
So it came as a bit of a surprise to hear that Hurricane Bill was projected to pay us a visit this weekend. It’s too early to tell whether he’ll kick at the door or simply throw a little extra wind and rain our way. But one thing’s for certain. Nothing brings people together like the feeling of impending doom! That’s all the talk now. And a quick trip to the grocery store today proved it. I’ve never seen so many cans of soup in shopping carts. It might also be because they’re on sale. Nice timing, Sobeys! How did you manage that one? You even had fliers printed and everything!
Ah well. If Bill comes, I’ll be ready.
And if he doesn’t, I’ll be serving chicken noodle soup to my guests for the next year.