We finally got a Trader Joes in this part of town, and I spend way too much time there. Apparently a lot of other people do too, though, because the clerks don’t yell, “Hi, Jen!” when I walk in; in fact, most of them appear not to recognize me at all. I’m okay with that. They do know me as the one who always asks for the stroopwafels when they’re not where they should be. But hell-o? They’re stroopwafels! I can’t not buy them. I also can’t not eat a whole bag on the way home.
The guy who made this video loves the store even more than I do (even though I noticed he didn’t mention the stroopwafels or orange chicken).
