Endless bins of edibles, unlimited portion control, and pricing by weight. What's not to love? There is no place with a wider variety of goods. It's mere footsteps between chocolate covered espresso beans and handfuls of ground millet. You need nut butters? They have nut butters. Five different kinds of raisins? Of course. They have everything: bird seed, baking ingredients, candy, drink mixes, beans, and nuts galore. You need, they got it, bub.
And get this: you no longer have to write numbers on those little paper tags. The staff have *memorized* all the products and their SKUs. I am picturing the Ludovico treatment (still pictures of bulk goods, Beethoven, eye drops and shock therapy), though the training process is probably something more humane. On ambiguous items, like chocolate covered what-have-yous, I try to make a little mental note of the code. This inevitably impresses the cashier, which makes me feel like a Big Man. "Wow," they might say. Or even, "thanks."
I then carry on with my sad, sad life. (sung: Bulk Barn!)
Obligatory Title Pun: Get the inside SCOOP.
Menu Readability: Don Watt-esque. I can't say enough about the No Frills aesthetic.[1]
Need to mention: It's counterproductive to cost savings to purchase a kilo and a half of gummi worms.
What this place teaches me about myself: I have a compulsive need to impress the cashier. This better not be a psychosexual thing.
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[2] Seriously, don't get me started.