we, the david crowder*band, have a developing theory that we frequently pull out, to laugh about and add to, and it is this: there is a grocery store on the outskirts of waco, texas, this beautiful metropolis we call home, that we are convinced is a psychological testing facility. i say this and you don’t take me seriously. but i am. i am serious. it is the only reasonable explanation for the store’s layout. i mean, we all know that grocery stores, and the magical stocking thereof, are the stuffs of science; precisely planned for calculated events to unfold upon your entrance. you may believe that it was your idea to buy the lime flavored water additive on the way to get the fresh head of lettuce, but no, this event was foreseen by a computer program months ago, knowing that you would enter from the south doors at 3pm on a wednesday. the ideology of impulse buying and the intentional direction of traffic flow for optimal manipulation is expected on our modern hunting and gathering outings, but what unfolds upon entrance into the H.E.B on woodway drive is nothing short of mystifying.

this notion of a psychological-testing-facility came to me while catching sight of a man tapping away frantically at a mysterious, portable, rolling, computer cart that had various science-type periphery hanging from it while observing me as i calmly pointed out to my wife that i could touch weed killer with one hand while reaching across the aisle and, with the other hand, simultaneously touch baby diapers. and so we, as a band, have made humorous statements about this, and other equally mystifying product placements, and have made statements, with no real intent of following through on, about mapping the store to cartographically document the many bizarre commercial pairings.

well, today i had the great joy of locating a particularly unsettling pairing. and i took pictures. the pictures are significant because i’ve been banned from this, the taking of pictures, in this store. it is true! i have been shut down twice for taking photos, which, as one would imagine, serves to grow my suspicion rather than suppress it. but yes, this time i was successful, and so i texted the band the following: ‘in my right hand i can grab a spray bottle of something called, ‘urine eliminator’ while simultaneously grabbing a fully cooked chicken that sits beneath an infrared heat lamp. magical i say!”

here is the thing that is called, “urine eliminator.”:

here is the whole chicken, warming beneath the lamp:

here is me grabbing both:

here are the text responses back from band members:

hogan: did you need a leather couch too? next aisle.

bwack: can you grab the nickleback cd? it’s next to the vacuum bags, to the left of the chicken.

mike d: amazing!

jack: if you’re looking for the hamburger buns, they’re next to the hamburger patties.

mark: yes! don’t get arrested.