Rotunda Giant:

Two words guaranteed to provoke a reaction, from both regular customers and pretty much anyone at their corporate office - the former, groaning; the latter, nervous tittering.

A little context - in 1967, my parents bought their elegant WWII-era brick Menlo Drive house not for the mahogany paneled den or the carved valances with sheafs of wheat or the Stuart kitchen, but because it was twelve houses from the Giant. My mother filled a shopping cart three to four times a week to feed seven, and in between those full-blown excursions, usually I, of the five children, was sent walking the two-tenths of a mile to buy stray items. My mother refused to shop anywhere else - too dirty - and besides, employees proud and grateful to work for Giant made the store a lovely place to shop.

And so the Giant became the only place I, too, shopped. A 1985 move to Charles Village rendered the Rotunda location my primary store. I have shopped there literally thousands of times since, but because the store is so highly dysfunctional, I often ask myself why, particularly when nearby options abound.

Please stop by tomorrow for part two.