There once was a time, or so I’ve been told, when virtue was something you earned. You behaved, you sacrificed, you did unto others as you would have them do unto you, and eventually you’d attain something that people called virtue.
Nowadays, all it takes is a trip over to Whole Foods, where virtue is available for sale somewhere between the macrobiotic microwave dinners and the locally grown lamb chops.
I realized this when shopping at the Cherry Creek location on a ridiculously crowded Wednesday evening and wasn’t bothered when a woman browsing yogurts next to me pointed to my cart at the greens I’d selected way back in produce.
“Aren’t the collards beautiful here?”
Now, normally I hate it when people look in my grocery cart. Not that I have anything to hide. I’m comfortable admitting to that bag of Chips Ahoy and box of Frosted Krispies. But my grocery cart is an extension of my cupboard, a closet on wheels, and I just don’t like people looking in my closet.
But that day at Whole Foods, I didn’t care. I was proud of the organic lemons, the cage-free eggs, the biodegradable shave cream.
Because at Whole Foods, my cart isn’t just full of groceries. It’s full of much more. It’s full of virtue.
After all, there must be a reason so many of us converge on our local Whole Foods between 5 and 7 p.m. on weekdays.
It sure isn’t the prices: My bill at Whole Foods is always steeper than I wish it was. (Do cage-free vegetarian-diet eggs really need to cost $3.79 a dozen?)
It’s definitely not the convenience: The parking lot is always an overcrowded mess of SUVs. And let’s face it, after loading up at Whole Foods you still have to make a stop on your way home for Doritos.
It’s not just the high quality of Whole Foods’ products or the knowledgeable staff. Sure, they have great produce and a killer fish counter. Plus good cheese. But there are other fish in this town. And better cheese.
It’s not even the clientele, hip as they are: A woman in front of me in line a few weeks ago bought a bottle of scented massage oil, a box of vegetable-dye hair color and the latest copy of Organic Style magazine. It’s like Girls Gone Biodynamic!
It’s none of those things. But there’s something about Whole Foods that gets me there, regularly, even with the higher prices and inconvenience of it all.
I think it’s because of how it makes me feel: virtuous.
Buying self-described earth-friendly and healthful groceries at Whole Foods – even if it stretches my budget – makes me feel like I’m a better guy. Like somehow, by the simple act of shopping here, I might be doing some good. You know, for my health. Or for the Earth. Or for an artisanal beekeeper somewhere.
Now, I don’t know for sure whether the Whole Foods phenomenon has had any real impact on my health, the Earth or artisanal beekeepers. But I shop at Whole Foods anyway because it makes me feel virtuous.
Especially on weekdays between 5 and 7 p.m., when the maximum number of people possible can peek into my cart and see just how virtuous I am.
Staff writer Tucker Shaw can be reached at 303-820-1958 or at dining@denverpost.com.
