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a meal mothKillin' Your Own Kind

There comes a time, H.L. Mencken said, when every normal man is tempted "to spit on his hands, haul up the black flag and begin slitting throats."

Gourmet supermarkets are thick with yuppies the way online chatrooms are thick with people named DARKKNIGHT141 who ask "WHAT R U WARING?" Amid the lox and shallots, the places teem with people talking on their hands-free cellphones. People squeezing each individual peach to ensure that they're getting the best peach in the entire city. People walking with a fast, determined, achievement-oriented stride, heading heedlessly toward the yogurt section, plowing through those in their path. People cheerfully spending 70 cents on a single extra-chewy bagel.

Spit spit. Hoist. Sching!

So let's say you're in the store to begin with. Let's say you're buying a pound of tuna steak for $15.99 so you can sear it with a nice ginger-shiitake cream sauce. You're one of them.

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"To assume that all Whole Foods shoppers are mindless yuppie drones is not only erroneous but also insulting..." More ›
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And you suddenly realize that not only are you one of them, but they also do a lot of things that are totally odious. This kind of revelation, of course, isn't limited to yuppies.

It happens to longshoremen. And middle school students. And lawyers. And visual artists. And almost any large group of people. Sometimes it looms suddenly: "My peeps have some awful habits. And I share the fault — or at least the stigma."

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"What really got my attention was the young lady who responded..." More ›
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So disturbing is the dual revelation that — if you're in a place packed tight with your peers — the initial urge is just to go bugaboo, and start throwing jars of lemon curd at their heads. It's to run from aisle to aisle, pushing over shelves until they fall like dominos, burying editorial assistants and associate professors under mounds of tahini and fresh pasta. It's to put on cleats and jump up and down on a pile of mangos screaming: "HERE ARE YOUR PERFECT MANGOS, YOU GULLIBLE, OVERPAID CUNTFLAPS! HERE ARE YOUR MANGOS!"

And then, with a wave of reason, the urge passes. You're back in the real world, and the fish guy is asking you if you'd like anything else. No, the tuna will be fine. The tuna, and the understanding that you're part of a group with some loathsome habits.

And some kickin' cuisine.

James Norton (jrnorton@flakmag.com)

ALSO BY …

Also by James Norton:
The Weekly Shredder

The Wire vs. The Sopranos
Interview: Seth MacFarlane
Aqua Teen Hunger Force: The Interview
Homestar Runner Breaks from the Pack
Rural Stories, Urban Listeners
The Sherman Dodge Sign
The Legal Helpers Sign
Botan Rice Candy
Cinnabons
Diablo II
Shaving With Lather
Killin' Your Own Kind
McGriddle
This Review
The Parkman Plaza Statues
Mocking a Guy With a Hitler Mustache
Dungeons and Dragons
The Wash
More by James Norton ›

 
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