Whole Foods Hookup

Love + Sex Whole Foods Hookup Of all the organic-salad-bar joints in all the towns, in all the world – he walked into mine -Carrie Seim As you may recall, last week I wrote about my date with a doctor, who canceled at the last minute. The follow-up to that story is that we had [...]

Love + Sex

Whole Foods Hookup

Of all the organic-salad-bar joints in all the towns, in all the world –
he walked into mine

-Carrie Seim

As you may recall, last week I wrote about my date with a doctor, who canceled at the last minute. The follow-up to that story is that we had a makeup date a few days later, which turned out lovely. So lovely, in fact, that I didn’t feel compelled to spill my guts about it for the entertainment of strangers.

The next day, I was out running errands in Manhattan, humming “I Kissed a Girl” and attempting find some sort of feminist value to the song, since it refuses to leave my brain. Suddenly I noticed my blood sugar plummeting. Most people get a signal from their stomach in this situation, like, “Hey, friend, we might want to think about finding a sandwich when we’re done at the post office; I’m running on empty down here.”

I do not have the luxury of such polite advance warning. Instead, I turn into an angry werewolf who will eat cardboard, headbands and small children in my quest to feed the beast. I evaluated my options – McDonald’s (no, this wasn’t quite nuclear-crisis level), a small shih tzu being carried by a Talbots-clad MILF (possibly, although the woman’s handbag looked like it might leave a bruise) and a bustling Whole Foods Market.

$22 of organic comfort food later, I took my hot and cold salad-bar selections to a corner table. I hunched over the various cardboard boxes and shoveled down the amalgam of world cuisine. Indian, Thai, Catalonian, Uruguayan Slow Food – there was a macrobiotic United Nations session unfolding in my stomach.

Mid-bite, I noticed a man pulling up a chair next to me. I lurched up from my arugula, salmon & hand-fed diamond pizza to see the doctor, who was carrying a single, modest plate of fresh veggies.

You know that feeling of being wonderfully surprised by life? The feeling we used to have so often when we were younger – that magical things could happen at any moment, if only we were to watch for them? That fate can blow in when you least expect it?

As I wiped the antibiotic-free tofu off my chin, I was overcome by that feeling.

Of all the organic salad-bar joints in all the towns, in all the world – he walked into mine.

I’m not sure whether the doctor realized the cinematic significance of this moment. That in a city of 1.5 million people and no fewer than five Whole Foods Markets, we’d end up in the same little corner at the same little moment … for a writer, that’s pure (organic) gold. For the doctor, it might have been more of a hummus moment.

But still. Some people have Paris. We’ll always have the Whole Foods salad bar.

Wanna find your own connection at Whole Foods, check out her tips  for doing so, and read a real-life, happily-ever-after-Whole-Foods story here.


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