Woman Goes On Rampage Over Speciality Yogurt
Beth Alexander considers herself a connoisseur of the finer things in life. She loves antiquing, tasting exotic cuisines and spending her husband’s income at designer boutiques.
“I’ve traveled the world with my husband, and I cannot forget the breathtaking views on Oia, along the Amalfi Coast, and on the French Riviera,” says Alexander.
When it comes to yogurt, though, this blonde bombshell has a few imperative requests: plain, low sugar, low fat and made with skim milk.
“Nothing grinds my gears more than going to Whole Foods and finding flavored yogurts. Do you know how many preservatives and artificial colors they contain?” says Alexander. “Boston Cream Pie? Strawberry Shortcake? I would need to take on an eating disorder to enjoy those sugary flavors.”
Alexander’s credentials include receiving a degree in nutritional studies at night school. “It’s the chic thing to do now,” she explains
Sifting through various brands of yogurt in the dairy aisle, Alexander finds herself stuck behind a metaphorical wall — her preferred yogurt is missing. Alexander is floored.
“This is literally the worst thing in the history of the world. It’s even worse than when Lululemon Athletica moved across town. And they had the best workout wear,” says Alexander as she leaves the store. The sun shines on her fit body and reflects off her blonde hair.
Not accepting defeat, Alexander continues her search after her Bikram Yoga class at the town strip mall an hour later.
“My soul is at ease when I taste the deliciously plain nectar of the yogurt goddesses,” says Alexander.
Alexander says yoga is her go-to relaxation technique when she can’t find her healthy yogurt, or when the housekeeper breaks a cherished item.
Alexander explains her displeasure, “I’m going to talk to the dairy manager. This is unacceptable, and I will not stand for this grave injustice.”
Alexander clutches her green canvas grocery bags as she marches into the surburban bastion and attempts to find the dairy manager. After jostling through a family of four, customer service flagged her over.
“I don’t want to talk to La’marah the cashier! I need someone with actual power!” says Alexander as she rings the assistance buzzer in the dairy department repeatedly.
Matt McAdams, dairy manager at Whole Foods, emerges from the swinging doors next to a refrigerated case. Upon seeing the high-maintenance house wife, he lets out a sigh and rolls his eyes.
“Ma’am, you come here every week asking for a product we no longer carry. Our vendor no longer accepts special orders.”
“The customer is always right, so you have to listen to me!” says Alexander defiantly.
“Why don’t you try somewhere else?” says McAdams, “Otherwise, we have Chobani.”
In a sudden fit of rage, Alexander runs through the store, knocks over end-cap displays, bushels of organic Granny Smith apples, and containers of almond butter.
McAdams told Alexander to leave Whole Foods before she was forcibly removed.
“You haven’t seen the last of me! I need my plain, low sugar, low fat, skim milk-based yogurt to function in life!” yelps Alexander.
Baggers look at the spectacle Alexander creates. Managers from different departments try to stop the belligerent housewife from destroying more bags of kale chips and agave nectar stands.
At last, Alexander exits the store, throws her canvas bags in the back seat of her white Range Rover Sport, and speeds away.
“I’m angry, so I can speed!” says Alexander. “I need an emergency appointment with my Energist to realign my ‘chi’,” she explains further.
Cashiers gather around the front-facing windows of the store to watch the spectacle.
As Alexander’s Range Rover makes an illegal left turn, La’marah sighs, “white girl problems.”
Marc Phillips is a junior IMC major who is more of a pudding person. Email him at mphilli1[at]ithaca.edu.