Post-Gustav, Making Groceries at Rouses

So, I don't really want to discuss my evacucation--that is, after I got sent home by boyfriend (see my last post). I got in the car with Davy the brother, Angela the sister-in-law, Linda the dog, and Vadeem the piano player and drove to Atlanta. Suffice it to say that we were crammed in an airport-side hotel teeming with Gustav evacuees, who if you tried to bond with them, aka "So you're evacuating too?" would look at you blankly, and say, "You waiting for drugs?"

Now that I'm back home, I feel a lot better, naturally. I have power in my house, and today I went to the store!!! Now I talk a lot of shit about Rouses but I keep shopping there, and I don't think it's just because it's convenient. I think I'm starting to like Rouses; it's still a shit hole, but I believe it's acquiring some of that "charm" that I before had so adamantly declared was missing.

Today, Rouses was packed! We played bumper-carts with each other, but amicably. Lots of "excuse mes," and "I'm sorry, ba-bys," because we all knew we were in this shit-show together. But all the employees were fighting with each other: "Stupid Produce, it's all stupid Produce, what a dysfunctional operation." Help me out, here--when that employee refers to the employees in charge of the produce department as "Produce," is that an example of metonymy or synecdoche?

The cashier checking out at aisle 4 had the name "Chasity" written in Sharpee on a piece of white tape stuck on her shirt. Bored in line, I figured that her parents thought the name "Chastity" was really pretty, but knew if they named their daughter that, she would grow up to be a whore. So they opted for "Chasity" instead, that had the same ring to it, but not the same implications. Similar signifier, different signified. Why did I go to college, seriously.

Ok, but more importantly, Chasity was training! They hadn't even given her a real name-tag yet! That's some bullshit, why train an employee at a time like this? I wanted to talk shit about Chasity, and then noticed that the woman ahead of me was Latina. "No es el dia para entrenar una obrera nueva, sabes?" I asked her. I don't know if that's right or not, but she laughed and said, "Si, con este movimiento..." or something like that. It was fun. When Chasity began checking me out, I was tempted to say some consoling words like "Rough time to have to train, huh?" but was afraid my tone would come off as insincere.

Well, I got my groceries, and for any non-natives who are interested, I'm about to make some cheese grits and collard greens. Oh my God, it's kind of like a Gumbo Party, just like on K-Ville!!!

Nobody likes Rouses

In New Orleans, we tend to believe that local is synonymous with good. Why do we believe this? Because it is our religion. Why do people have religion? That's another issue.

Of course, local does not always mean good, though we rarely admit it. One could argue that we are defensive because we are fault-ridden, literally, with deep motherfucking crevices in our city's would-be-bulwarks. A chink in our armor, if you will. And a million other perfect little idioms that help describe our failures to compensate for at once internal and visible weakness.

And of course, sometimes we take the angle, We're so messed up, but we have so much more soul than you, and we party, and that makes us so real that it's not entertaining. This you already know. But in the instance of Rouses, this is not that. Because Rouses is local, and it sucks, and nobody likes Rouses.

To understand why Rouses doesn't fit under our local=good mantra, we must trace New Orleans's history of changing businesses and our subsequent reactions:

1. K&B bought out by Rite Aid, 1997=the corporate/national usurps the local

K&B was good, and K&B was taken from us, and that sucked, and nobody liked it. K&B was our "heart's darling," you could say. Our purple dream. The local was usurped by the corporate/national, that old story so easily translated into one of good vs. evil, and a perfect opportunity for local clever sloganeering--WRONG AID!!!

2. Some Winn-Dixies bought by Sav-a-Center=local chain replaces local chain

We like Winn-Dixie because it is a Southern chain begun in Jacksonville, FL, Lil Wayne mentions it in the song "Got Money" ("I need a Winn-Dixie grocery bag of money"). Winn-Dixie declared bankruptcy February 22, 2005, selling or closing 326 stores, then restructuring, and resuming a smaller operation in the Deep South. Some Winn-Dixies were bought by Sav-a-Center, a local chain owned by A&P. We didn't mind Sav-a-Center, and it only took over a few Winn-Dixies, so we shrugged and shopped there. Local chain replaced local (Southern) chain, and the difference seemed arbitrary enough.
However, when Sav-a-Center replaced Mid City's Movie Pitchers with a parking lot in 2001, we were pissed, because when a local chain replaces a local gem, then you've got a small-scale analogy to the Rite Aid-K&B situation.

3. All A&P stores, including A&P's local chain, Sav-a-Center, sold to local chains Breaux Mart and Rouses in late 2007=local chain replaced by mediocre local chain

We didn't like this. A&P grocery stores, (as distinct from Sav-a-Centers), though national, had become dear to our hearts, local charms (think of the Magazine St. A&P just past Louisiana). What the hell is Breaux Mart? It doesn't even sound good. Plus everybody likes A&P because it's nostalgic, everybody read the Updike story in high school and thought it was awesome, even if you didn't like that story or haven't read it, what New Orleanian wouldn't jive with its youthful rebellious sentiment?

When Rouses replaced all of the Sav-a-Centers (A&P's local chain grocery), we were pissed. Why is Rouses more offensive than Sav-a-Center? The Rouses acquisition of Sav-a-Center is no different than Sav-a-Center's replacement of Winn-Dixie. However, Rouses is just that annoying, that the logic of "local=good," or "local chain replaced by local chain=no loss" fails to apply. Sav-a-Center was aight, but Rouses isn't.  Maybe the first time around was okay, but the second time, we were all like, "Stop changing our grocery stores, we hate change, we can't stand it another time it was hard enough to adjust when those Winn-Dixies became Sav-A-Centers."  Maybe our distaste for Rouses is explained by our city's other mantra, "Change=Bad."  Remember that world antidisestablishmentarianism?...when the establishment is a New Orleans establishment.

However, despite our dour take on Rouses, the fact that it's a local chain keeps us from openly booing it. There are no t-shirts that read Grosses or anything. Maybe because that just doesn't quite work. Our principle of being loyal to the local might surpass all the other mantras.

But to keep focus...

Reasons Rouses sucks:

1. Their product is bad and over-priced. ("They say that they have budget prices, but it's a lie, the prices are just as, if not more, expensive than at other stores."--Melissa Stein. "Their meat sucks, it's like...pussy meat."--Matt Davis)
2. There is no logical organization. ("I can't ever find anything that I need, it's so frustrating."--Betsy Foster)
3. They lack essential products. (In my experience: peanut oil, bean sprouts, Mr. Coffees, whole wheat pita )
4. It isn't charming. ("Now Mimi's Market--that was a charming grocery store"--Matt Davis)
5. Their parking lot is a death trap. ("I ride my bike there now just to avoid the dangers of the parking lot."--Frances Beck)
6. The name makes no sense. Not to be one of those annoying English Majors who has to assert herself post-collegiately by leading a rampage against each and every grammatical error and its perpetrator, but I found an easy target. Why the fuck is it called Rouses, and not Rouse's or Rouses'? The CEO's name is Donald Rouse. So the store is either Rouse's, meaning, (Donald) Rouse's, or it belongs to the whole Rouse family, meaning it is Rouses'. Did Donald Rouse intend to name his store after himself (Rouse) or his whole family (the Rouses)? If he intended the former, here follows a little grammar exercise to help explain why the store should be called "Rouse's."

"I am going over to Mooney's (Kate Mooney, here called by her last name) house for dinner tonight."
"I am going to buy some mediocre, over-priced product at Rouse's for my barbeque tonight." GET IT?

If Donald Rouse intended to name his store after his whole family, the Rouses, then here follows a grammar exercise to explain why it should read "Rouses'":

"I am going over to the Mooneys' house for dinner tonight." Mooneys is plural because all the members of the Mooney family live there, and it's possessive, because it is the house of all the Mooneys in the family.
"I am going to swing by Rouses' (supermarket) to buy some mediocre, over-priced product for my barbeque tonight."

New Orleans businesses are rife with grammatical errors. But sometimes these errors add to the character of the place (rather than add insult to injury, in the case of Rouses). Or maybe you just witnessed a New Orleanian defense mechanism in action ("We're illiterate, but that's an asset to character and soul!") or maybe it's just sense of humor. You decide:

WHO DAT NEED PAINT? (sign outside a paint store on Paris Avenue, past Gentilly Blvd, right before the entrance to 6-10.

Funny.

ROUSES

Not funny.