I occasionally shop at the grocery store that Amazon owns, which occupies Williamsburg’s most accelerationist block, flanked by WeWork and Equinox with an Apple Store/Sweetgreen complex directly across the street. Perhaps due to the constraints of the building it occupies, this particular location of the Amazon grocery store feels especially hectic—I’ve visited others that offer more spaces to relax, have a beer, or otherwise slow down and hang out. Maybe it’s just my sensibility, but every time I set foot inside this store, I find myself urgently compelled to get through and check out as quickly as possible. Every time I go to Sweetgreen across the street, I feel the same way: Headphones on, I consume my nutrients quickly and then get the hell out. These are pleasant environments, by many criteria—far from the over-illuminated chaos of McDonald’s or the cavernous despair of Walmart—but they propel us through just as effectively.
#107: Date With IKEA
#107: Date With IKEA
#107: Date With IKEA
I occasionally shop at the grocery store that Amazon owns, which occupies Williamsburg’s most accelerationist block, flanked by WeWork and Equinox with an Apple Store/Sweetgreen complex directly across the street. Perhaps due to the constraints of the building it occupies, this particular location of the Amazon grocery store feels especially hectic—I’ve visited others that offer more spaces to relax, have a beer, or otherwise slow down and hang out. Maybe it’s just my sensibility, but every time I set foot inside this store, I find myself urgently compelled to get through and check out as quickly as possible. Every time I go to Sweetgreen across the street, I feel the same way: Headphones on, I consume my nutrients quickly and then get the hell out. These are pleasant environments, by many criteria—far from the over-illuminated chaos of McDonald’s or the cavernous despair of Walmart—but they propel us through just as effectively.