During an Italian meal… You pasta sauce around the table.

Wholesale supermarket

So, the other day my wife texted me, said we were having salad for dinner, and asked me to grab a head of lettuce on my way home from work.

I said OK and decide to try the new discount supermarket that opened right off the highway.

When I get in, it’s clear that this place specializes in wholesale: there are giant boxes of things everywhere.

I didn’t need more than a head of lettuce though, so I grab one out of a box and head up to the front.

The cashier looks at the lettuce, looks at me, and says, “I’m sorry, sir, but I can’t sell you that.”

“Why not?”

“Well, sir, we only sell the entire box. You can go back and get the entire box and buy that or you need to return the lettuce.”

“That’s ridiculous!” I say, “There must be over a hundred heads in each of those boxes.”

“That’s right, sir. There’s one hundred and forty-four.”

“You mean you have to buy one hundred and forty-four heads of lettuce?? That’s absurd! Who would need that much!” I was so upset at that point that I just left the lettuce with the cashier. I looked her straight in the eye and said, “This is the worst supermarket I’ve ever seen.”

She shakes her head and answers, “You have us all wrong. We’re not a supermarket, we’re a gross-ery store.”

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