Abby is on a press trip to Reno right now, learning about their huge new indoor track complex.

I'm a grown-up who knows how to function on his own, though you'd be forgiven for thinking otherwise based on the last 24 hours. This morning I dropped a huge glob of guac on my tan linen trousers but I WASN'T EVEN WEARING THEM — they were freshly cleaned and hanging out of the washing machine. I also spilled a bottle of ketchup on the floor (discovered by my dog), smashed a glass, locked myself out, and missed two scheduled yoga classes due to poor planning.

Point being: Come home, Abby! Otherwise I'm going to break a limb or wear shower curtains as formalwear.

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Something wild is happening at the surplus grocer right now. Early last week, they put out a bunch of bananas, blueberries, and blackberries. They don't typically traffic in fresh produce so this was notable, though not unprecedented. Then, over the course of the week, they started putting out more and more fresh produce: baby cukes, bags of seedless lemons, broccolini, serrano peppers, organic greens, veggie party platters, much more. It won't stop! There's a frantic energy to it, a race against spoilage. There isn't space for everything in the refrigerated cooler so they pile it into freestanding boxes in the middle of the store aisles.

My response has been predictably unhinged. Instead of only buying things we need/have space for, I buy one of virtually every new item. Our fridge is making a telltale groaning noise. Here's how I justify it:

1) It's incredibly cheap, like a buck for a quart of strawberries.

2) The store will have to throw out a lot of this stuff, but at least we'll give it a fighting chance.

3) It's vegetables! Instead of flaming hot Cheetos I ate radishes and celery while watching TV last night. (ok I dipped them in buffalo blue cheese)

An NYC produce inspector visited the store last week. Dude looked about 22 and was wearing statement glasses, but ACAB has no exceptions. He seemed nonplussed that there were unrefrigerated green beans. I hope they bribed him.

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Please ignore my earlier cries for Abby's return; I'm like, totally functional. Thriving even.

xo, (obsessed)

Jesse

You know those guys who make a big show of holding the door open for you at a store, presumably hoping for a tip? I've always thought it was a harmless, if lightly annoying, hustle.

The surplus grocer has acquired one of these guys. The first few times I was irritated — I can open the door myself! — before I got used to it. He's unflaggingly polite, never asks for money, and never leaves his post, even in extreme weather. I give him a buck sometimes.

He also takes the money he earns to shop at the store - circular economy! He favors rice pudding and orange juice. I'm a bit concerned though, as I saw him early one morning on a neighboring block, haggard, strung out, falling over. Really want him to make it.

Remember the sex cult from the last time I sent you a newsletter (1973?) There have been developments.

1) We watched the Dunham-produced documentary about them, Orgasm Inc. We went from lightheartedly being like "haha this is crazy there's a cult next door" to witnessing credible allegations of rape and abuse. Insanely dark, this!

2) I made the questionable decision to comment on one of the leader's Instagram posts. Third wall broken, I was directly invited to join them for coffee — we've been texting. And Abby was asked to attend one of their women-only events.

I am wildly curious what our next-door neighbors are up to. Yet I recognize this curiosity could lead to trouble. How strong am I?

We used to be able to get fancy pastured eggs for $3 a dozen, but it's not 2021 anymore. Weirdly the surplus grocer's egg prices have now surpassed Food Bazaar. Supply chain hijinks.

This is how some other product would pretend to be peanut butter. "Nothing to worry about, just some actual peanut butter you could purchase, it's fine." Then you're spreading bleach on your toast - no thanks.

Gluten-free is always worse! This isn't the first time I've suffered for not reading a label closely.

I simply can't resist a stunt purchase, but these were better than anticipated. A minute thirty in the microwave, dab on some honey mustard, you've got a lovely, durable pre-yoga snack.

Still reeling from the fact that our dogsitter ate the last two dogs. He ain't shy.

Abby likes plant-based milks for her protein shakes. (Do you even lift, bro?) This one has a distinct creamy flavor, less banana-like than you might imagine. They did add cane sugar which feels like a mistake. It's not a milkshake!

Made in Saudi Arabia! These are shelf-stable but for some reason they're keeping them in the frozen section. (I'd love to join the store's weekly planning meetings, truly.) Haven't tried these magic donuts yet but I love seeing them on our counter.

Frozen mussel meat was such a treat to cook with! I made a truly sensational pasta dish. You guys should come over sometime.