The horror, the horror!

Friday night, I was hungry for barbecue, so we headed out to the local franchise of Famous Dave's. We had a mixed results dinner, mixed because my food was really good and the girls were happy, but Greg had a sausage as part of his platter that was actually cold, not just not hot.

We never feel like just heading home to the suburbs after eating, so Greg suggested going to the Asian market down the street to pick up some more of a sauce that he likes. I thought it would be an interesting excursion--you always hear about the exotic (to American eyes) vegetables and fruits these markets carry, plus the interesting variety of canned goods, and I lead a very sheltered life, so I was happy to concur.

The market, which a sign said was affiliated with IGA, was bustling. We found a parking space and walked in. I have the normal expectations for a grocery store--clean, well-lighted, wide selection, good service, good prices. Well----

The store was well-lighted. It had a wide selection of interesting food items. There was good service (we initially had a problem finding the sauce Greg wanted and we were asked at least twice if we needed any help). The prices seemed in line.

It was not clean. Oh my god. Oh my god. The first thing we encountered was a god-awful smell of garbage from somewhere right by the entrance. Julia was walking and immediately said, "I smell something." Yup, we sure did.

Right inside the entrance were stacks and stacks of rice in 50 lb. bags, which Allie was curious about, since they don't have those at our local grocery. They appeared to be sitting right on the not-too-clean floor. Did I mention that there were bugs flying around us initially?

We proceeded to the sauce aisle. The whole store was very busy, so I picked up Julia to keep her out of people's way (and, I confess, so she wouldn't touch anything). Now I'm not one of those moms who carries sanitizing handi-wipes everywhere in case my kids get their hands dirty. After all, just three weeks ago, we spilled popcorn on the sidewalk and Julia got down there and ate some before we could stop her. But this was different.

Greg found his sauce and we explored a little bit. After all, as far as I was concerned, I wasn't ever coming back to the place. There were interesting fruits and vegetables, but then we hit the oh-my-god jackpot.

On the floor next to the fish counter (which had prominent but stained and tattered signs saying that only store personnel were allowed to put their hands into the seriously-needing-a-cleaning-or-maybe-they-should-just-throw-them-out-and-start-over fish case), was a cardboard box.

The box contained blue crab. Greg says they were alive, I don't know because I didn't want to look that closely I was busy holding my nose (not literally, but not because I didn't want to). Two people were using a pair of tongs to sort through them, and the smell was enormous.

I did notice that the box said it was leakproof, but someone's going to need to speak to the manufacturers about a warranty issue, because a stream of green god-knows-what liquid streamed across the aisle from the bottom of the box.

It smelled so bad. Greg (and unfortunately Allie) have very well developed senses of smell. I think Allie was literally holding her nose and Greg was retching in the frozen food aisle.

We quickly exited the premises with Greg's sauce and some glass noodles. Greg is going to have to find a new supplier for his sauce. This place needs to be burned down. You know, purifying flame?

I'll be at home 20 miles or so away, holding my nose.