From the vaunted “Would that my wife could see this” file......

I had to patronize Lori’s Natural Foods the other day, otherwise known by me as “The Funky Food Store.”
Lori’s specializes in exotic and supposedly healthy foods.
They’re somewhat expensive, comparable to “Whole Foods,” what my deceased sister called “Whole-Paycheck Foods.”
I buy only a few things at Lori’s, namely -a) oat-bran, which comes in bulk, and I can’t get anywhere else, and -b) grape-juice by the case, which I can’t get by the case anywhere else.
The grape-juice also happens to be organic (and kosher), and a case might last a couple months.
Lori’s is not like a supermarket. Groceries fill most of the store — although there’s also a “wellness” kiosk — and cashiers are at one end to cash you out.
They stand behind a long counter. You wait in a single line, and they call you over. There aren’t single cashier stations with conveyor-belts.
Shopping Lori’s is entertaining. You’re liable to be accosted by an employee in a grape outfit, or a dancing banana.
The stock-people are all hippie long-hairs. Everyone seems to be carrying a walkie-talkie.
Lori’s hires the freaks no one else would hire for fear of frightening conventional people.
The iridescent Mohawk haircuts died purple.
There used to be a really cute checkout-girl who was very attractive.
But for the acres of tattoos. Her entire arm and shoulders were covered.
She disappeared, I guess, or gravitated to management.
I stood in line to cash out, and a tall guy called me over.
Okay, lots of facial-steel, nose-rings, a tongue-stud; this is Lori’s.
Then I noticed the things in his ear-lobes.
Giant wooden discs about an inch-and-a-half in diameter. That is, his ear-lobes had stretched around the discs.
Would that my wife were around to see this. She died over a year ago, and I miss her dearly.
Thankfully my wife was not into steel. I raised a fuss when she wanted to get her ears pierced — I let that happen.
Occasionally the YMCA Exercise-Gym, where I work out, has cute girls there.
De Facto dress seems to be in effect: the guys wear tee-shirts and the girls stretch tank-tops with bare shoulders and athletic bras. Everyone wears shorts or tights.
One girl stands out, and is often there. She’s very cute, but has a tattoo on her lower back. UGH! I can’t deal with that.
Which is why the sales-girl at LeBrun Toyota was so attractive. No steel, no body-art that I could see.
Maybe she had a Harley insignia tattooed to a buttock. Boy, would that deflate my interest.
How may girls have turned me off because they were smoking?
The checkout guy was also awash in body-art; tattoos everywhere.
There is a trainer-guy at the YMCA with tattoos all over his legs. Again, UGH!
There also is an attractive trainer-girl, but she has a tattoo on her ankle. Scotch that one.
Another trainer-girl looks nasty and ugly, but no body-art. I’m friends with her.
What do these people do when they tire of their body-art, when no one will hire them?
As I understand it, tattoos are forever.