The New Superstore — Massive Parking and Its Own Timezone!

<p>House guests drained my cache of <em>Chef Boyardee Beefaroni </em>jumbo 40 oz. cans. That sine qua non, combined with a Corvair muffler that sounds like Chernobyl when the reactor core melted, can only mean one thing. A trip tomorrow to the new superstore.</p> <h2>Monday 5:35 am</h2> <p>I pull into a parking lot the size of the asphalt steppes surrounding Arrowhead Stadium. Several dozen early bird shoppers beat me here. The new superstore never closes, except for ninety seconds at midnight when an employee with enormous responsibility presses the large maroon <em>Reset</em> button.</p> <h2>Monday 5:37 am</h2> <p>I enter the new superstore. It’s called <em>The New Superstore</em>.</p> <h2>Monday 5:40 am</h2> <p>In <strong>Auto Repair</strong>, I give the attendant my car keys and parking space number. I surf the QR code on the repair form and learn there’s a BOGO sale on lug nuts. Whoa! Can’t pass <em>that</em> up!</p> <h2>Monday 6:15 am</h2> <p>En route to the <strong>Pharmacy</strong>, I decide to browse <strong>Eyewear</strong>. The sales clerk says Lasik surgery would be cheaper than buying new glasses on the lather-rinse-repeat plan. I ask when the doctor will be in, and the clerk says she’s fully trained, has already done three of these, and has an opening <em>right now</em>. Can’t believe my luck!</p> <p><strong>Read More</strong></p>