Working at a Grocery Store During the Pandemic: Boléro

“You sure chose a strange time to start working here.”

I began working at Fresh Market soon after a jaded woman from the unemployment office who smelled like cigarettes told me in a hoarse voice, “There are no extensions for any reason. That ended in 2013.” She looked annoyed that I asked.

“Oh, thank you,” I said politely, even though she was impolite to me. She then eyed the door and I left, feeling awkward and wondering what to do.

That evening, I began to humor recruiters again after months of sending them all to voicemail. All of them were awful and one was even discriminatory. I was tired of hearing them drone on about their client’s biggest clients (who were usually second or third rate), SEO strategy, and matrix management style. I needed something else to hold me over, since I had no income or promising prospects.

I applied to Fresh Market after I spent January 2020 shitting my guts out and feeling on the verge of death. I was dehydrated and, for whatever reason, now lacked the ability to absorb any nutrients. I looked up potential causes and found that this could happen to people who developed a gluten sensitivity. I also read that some people developed gastrointestinal issues after a period of extreme stress. I imagine that a mother’s death, a pet’s death, two job losses, and an Election year following four years of insane political bullshit counted toward that. As soon as I cut out gluten, I stopped shitting so much and kept shopping at Fresh Market.

Fresh Market was one of the only places that had good gluten free options in my area. My friend deemed it “the carnival of grocery stores” when he first visited. It was huge, easily 2-3 times the size of all Market Baskets in our area, the grocery store chain of choice in Massachusetts. Almost a quarter of Fresh Market was a liquor, beer, and wine shop. Another contained rows of dry goods. Then frozen foods and dairy. Then the allergy aisles, which is where I found my gluten free bagels, cookies, and frozen cauliflower crust pizzas.

This was followed by vitamins, soap, shampoo, and cosmetics. Next was the pharmacy. Then you came upon a huge section of the prettiest produce you ever saw, including exotic fruits that I tried and decided weren’t for me. Then there was the cheese and charcuterie section, easily the size of a Stonewall Kitchen outlet with Stonewall Kitchen items located on one end of it, then a bread bakery, and a desserts section that had pies marked with the Pi symbol for Pi Day on March 14th.

Finally, there was prepared foods, where chefs milled about and workers made lunch for folks dressed in business attire. Around noon, subs had a line that extended to the store’s entrance while workers stood in an assembly line, rushing to make and wrap sandwiches. The line for the pizza department wasn’t as bad, since the single slice pizzas were already made, but their workers moved just as fast.

I was hired to work in the pizza department for $15.50 per hour, which the HR Assistant was excited to tell me about, since it was one quarter higher than what they usually offered new hires. She didn’t know I made close to that 20 years ago, working as an administrative assistant for my mother’s company during my college breaks. It was nothing close to $70K, which was what my last job paid me. My mother’s office was located across from where Fresh Market now stood, demolished to make way for an overpriced furniture store.