Shelbi and I used to live directly across the street from a Safeway. It was at once tremendously convenient and also a disastrous enabler of some of our bad habits. It became a running joke how many times one or both of us would end up at Safeway and we estimated that, in a given week, someone made an appearance at Safeway an average of 5.3 times. It was ridiculous. We had our favorite check-out person (the sardonic Asian woman who gave you a knowing look when someone wanted to split their groceries onto three separate checks), knew what time the south entrance was locked and could judge the changing seasons by how many teenagers were hanging out in the parking lot at midnight.