First World Problems: “There was a day when we ran out of kale and people were ready to burn the co-op to the ground”

Posted by on Mar 26, 2013 at 9:20 am

They probably should let the place burn to the ground just so we can watch a bunch of pretentious, spoiled hipster douchebags cry.

A kale shortage incites widespread panic. A 4-year-old melts down when his parents won’t buy him dried papaya spears. And members debate natural childbirth while bagging nuts.

It’s tales from the front lines of the Park Slope Food Coop, temple to locally grown, antibiotic-free, passive-aggressive grocery shopping where you’ll find equal doses of corn and scorn.

“Do we have …” is a constant drone heard over intercoms the community market installed throughout the store so shoppers and employees can get info about product availability and pricing.

“There was a day when we ran out of kale and people were ready to burn the co-op to the ground,” one member tells the Daily News. Like other members we spoke to, he asked that we withhold his name for fear of being booted out of the cult-like co-op. “The intercom went crazy with ‘Do we have kale!?’ ‘Do we have kale!?’ ‘Someone needs to get fired!’ It was doomsday.”

Just imagine how these idiots would react to some real adversity in their lives.

Even mini-members throw supersized tantrums.

“The weirdest thing I have ever seen at the co-op would have to be a 4-year-old hysterically crying because he couldn’t get dried papaya spears,” says a male co-op member in his mid-20s. “I didn’t even know what dried papaya spears were until I was in my 20s.”

No, this is not a parody, but an actual news story.

The chaos extends deep in to the meat aisle, too.

“There is always a generally high level of neurosis regarding running out of anything,” one member shares under the strict condition of anonymity. The thirtysomething artist has been a member since 2010 and usually works in the cheese department or bagging nuts. “There was no brisket as of Friday. That may be an anxiety-volcano in the making.”

You can’t make this stuff up.

It attracts all kinds of Brooklynites – from grungy hipsters to fortyish vegan moms chiding their multiracial children in French as they jostle for locally grown rhubarb. Recently, customers searched for filtered coconut water to prepare for a snowstorm and another was breathlessly seeking chocolate goat’s milk. The coop is so popular that claustrophobic conditions and endless checkout lines lead to “cart rage,” as one member puts it.

We’re tempted to pay a visit and cut the line just to witness a meltdown.

Gaining membership entails a seven-step application process including making a $125 contribution (of which $100 is eventually refundable), proof of identity and address, enrolling every adult in your household (everyone must work!) and, finally, enduring a two-hour orientation conducted with a strict discipline that would make any autocrat proud. Bring a visitor and they’ll have to wear a bright orange “NO SHOPPING – VISITOR” sticker.

These are the same people who vehemently protest voter ID laws.
More amusing is they now want to ban Israeli-made products because of their solidarity with the Palestinian terrorists. Check the video at the link.

4 Responses to “First World Problems: “There was a day when we ran out of kale and people were ready to burn the co-op to the ground””

  1. Neil Flynn on 26/26/13 at 11:01 am

    Wow, “all kinds of Brooklynites” huh? From twenty something hippy douchebags to forty something hippy douchebags. Such diversity?

  2. MT Geoff on 26/26/13 at 11:32 am

    Depending on where you live, “locally grown” stuff is commonly much more costly, and so worse for the environment, than food grown in a better location and transported to the store. Commercial farming produces much more food, much more reliably, than “local” usually does.
    For one thing, growing bananas or citrus in Montana is pretty much impossible.

  3. lyle on 26/26/13 at 12:41 pm

    Not parody?!? Parody is dead, I guess. But it still makes me glad our local co-op moved the wine section to its own location across the parking lot. Greatly reduces my contact with hipster douchebags hippies, young or old.