Home Sweet Rite Aid

When I was a child one of my favorite books was "From the Mixed-Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler," about a girl who runs away and spends the night in the Metropolitan Museum of Art. I used to fantasize about what different places that seemed mundane by day would be like in an overnight adventure. To this day I still contemplate what it would be like to be locked in a store overnight, although my adult version is more along the lines of "where would I want to be if I were stuck in a national disaster," and have figured out that if there was one place it would have to be the Rite Aid on 45th street and 43rd Avenue right here in Sunnyside, New York.

Housed in a majestic old building with art deco details on the facade, it looks more appropriate for a bank or city landmark. For a while I lived on 45th street and would pilgrimage to Rite Aid at least once a day for everything from hand lotion to light bulbs.

When you think about it the store is really a self contained biosphere. If you are hungry, visit the aisle farthest from the door where you can whip yourself up a meal alla "Top Chef" style. Nachos, cereal, canned veggies, and sauce with ice cream and candy for dessert. Thirsty? No problem, all the beverages you could possibly want both alcoholic and non. Once you are done with your feast fit for a king, clean up is a snap with an aisle full of cleaning products and you can even remove the ice cream stain from your shirt.

Bored? Pop in a DVD, albeit one no one ever else would buy, from the racks displayed in the front. Either that or sit back and enjoy the soft hits from the 80s playing over the speakers while you read from a large selection of magazines dated three months ago and give yourself a facial, a new hair color, and mini-makeover.

Some sort of minor disaster happening? Head to the home improvement aisle, where if you are like MacGyver you can use an extension cord, motor oil, and duct tape to repair just about anything.

While my fantasy of staying overnight in Rite Aid sounds like Utopia, the reality is I shop there during the day and am in Queens. If I want a pair of stockings, I need to climb over five cartons of Scott toilet paper that no one has unpacked for a week. If I want to buy a carton of milk, I need to sort through twelve to find the one that isn't expired. If I want to buy hair dye, I better open the package in the store to make sure the box isn't empty.

This is all before making it to the check out line, where my fantasy turns from "I wonder where I can sleep" to that of throwing all my purchases on the floor and screaming "are you people asleep?!!" The line is, as a rule, 25 people long because the cashier needs to wait for a manager for something. Usually it relates to an 85 year old woman demanding to see the manager as to why her coupon from Eckerd doesn't work in Rite Aid. The woman in front of me has likely mistaken the store for the Super Stop and Shop as she has an entire basket filled with canned green beans. (Who actually BUYS the dusty canned veggies from Rite Aid?)

Fifteen minutes later after unfortunately mouthing all the words to whatever god awful tune has been playing on the loudspeaker, I am greeted by a cashier who looks like she would rather slit my throat than serve me. A swipe of my credit card and I'm out of there, vowing to never step foot in the store again.

Of course then I get home and realize that the hall light bulb blew out and we're out of toothpaste and the cycle begins again, as I plan out when I can go to Rite Aid tomorrow because they really do have everything.
(photo credit: Paul Grove)