The Westchester Supermarket Hierarchy: A Sunday Shopper's Guide
Disclaimer: I am a dad living in Westchester, New York. The names of all people, but not all places, have been changed to protect the innocent and me from the glares of my neighbors who are definitely not reading this blog. In some places, Sundays are for waking up, putting on a suit, and making amends for all the sins you may have accumulated over the course of the week. Not here in Westchester. Well, maybe here, just not with my family. We're not very religious, or at least I'm not very religious. My wife is Jewish. She and the kids go to a synagogue a couple of miles away during the high holidays. Me? The last time I stepped into a church (St. Patrick's Cathedral) was after I missed the 5:31 train home, and I decided to see some of the tourist attractions I always ignore (When is the last time anyone went to the top of the Empire State Building?). No. Sundays are for another spiritual endeavor. Going to the supermarket. I'll be honest. The worst possible day to go ...