Organic Grocer May Be Coming to 14th and Irving, Thus Precipitating the Great Columbia Heights Shutting Of The Fuck Up Of 2007.
I read on DCist and ReadExpress today that an old a beloved vestige from DCeiver: The Richmond Years (it's just like a Degrassi prequel!) may be making its way up I-95 and into our hearts. I speak of organic grocer Ellwood Thompson, whose Carytown location in Richmond was oft visited by then-Fiancee of DCeiver and myself, back when we were holding it down in the Capital of the Confederacy.
Back then, the grocer was a welcome oasis from what we called the Ukropolis--the dominant grocery chain in Richmond was Ukrops, owned by the Ukrops family--a group of pretend-Christian jerks who wouldn't permit the sale of alcohol at their stores (well, the ones named "Ukrops" anyway...hypocritically, their moral teachings didn't apply to the Community Pride stores they had a financial interest in, and I'm guessing that you can grok from the name "Community Pride" the precise sort of customer those stores served) and who waged a campaign to put the one really good rock station, WVGO (really, one of the last good mid-Atlantic rock stations) out of business after VGO put Howard Stern on the air (after the demise of VGO, Stern still finished fourth in the local radio ratings just from people tuning in to Norfolk, so,
the only accomplishment was to take away the rock station that got me through two hot, sticky summers I spent remodeling apartments in the neighborhood.
I think Ellwood Thompson would be fine addition to DC--they run their store along these guidelines: good food, presented simply, with quality service and not a lot of needless nonsense. My only concern is this: they make no attempt to bend over backwards to accomodate anyone's sense of entitlement or smugness, so, it's very possible that the small posse of douchenozzles who like to squint and pretend they have a Foxhall Road address, and who've tried and failed to give the neighborhood the ridiculous name "CoHi" (or "Cheights"--the preferred moniker of people who are so useless that if Jesus said he'd teleport them into the center of the sun for you you'd still say, "Nah, don't put yourself out, Christ, let's play Guitar Hero instead because I want to see you shred."), and who took to their precious little listservs to cry great big salty tears that their longed for Whole Foods wasn't coming and instead they were getting--GASP!--a Ross (and, for real, puh-lease--you dumb motherfuckers need to repeep your bankroll and return to ground level, tout-suite, and anyway, there's a Ross smack-middle-dab in OLD TOWN of all places, so ge-he-he-he-het over yoursel-hel-hel-helves) may not come away from the Ellwood Thompson experience with the feeling that they got the tips of their nipples twiddled in that extra special way that douchnozzles the world over have come to believe is their birthright.
But for the rest of the folks in Columbia Heights, this is potentially good news, and you should root for it. Believe that.