This place is the dive bar of grocery stores. Congrats Fry's! You popped my 1-star cherry.
It is only due to my current boycott of Target that I brought my business to the Fry's next door. This decision was based on principal, but I have to say I have missed Target.
When I walk through the front doors I just feel miserable. The 'energy-saving' automatic lights make me seize. The narrow aisles make me claustrophobic. The overall dinginess consumes me. I'm suddenly overwhelmed with an anxious feeling similar to when I brought a bad report card back to my parents. Or when I had to confront an ex-gf's parents about why the Pennsylvania State Troopers were calling them at 4am.
My pace quickens. My pupils dilate. The lump in my throat expands. I try to gasp for air, but the weight on my chest suffocates me. I feel lethal; on the verge of frenzy. My mask of sanity is about to slip. Sweat beads down my back. My aggressiveness becomes visible. The curmudgeon at the self-checkout grunts at me. Darkness comes over me...
I reemerge 36 hours later with no semblance of reality. Fry's is a catalyst of my psychosis.