Sundays are really quiet in Zurich. All retail shops and even most grocery stores are closed, and people hike or ski in the Alps (depending on the season, of course).
Last Sunday at 6 p.m., I opened my refrigerator even though I already knew what was in it: an apple, a carton of non-fat milk, three containers of yogurt, and several bottles of water. For dinner, I knew I would have to go to the main train station to find food. I put on my Crocs, made sure I had my umbrella, put on an extra cardigan for good measure, and walked down two flights to the front door. The temperature outside took my breath away, and not in the appealing "Top Gun" type of way: it was SO COLD!
When my tram arrived, I pushed on the plastic button encircled by a green border to open the door, since tram doors don't open automatically. At the central train station (Hauptbahnhof), I disembarked and walked slowly down the stairs to look for a grocery mart with ready-to-eat options, which is easy to find in train stations because they get enough traffic to stay open. I was careful to walk in a straight line because I wanted to reduce the chances I'd get lost in the labyrinth before me. I saw a promising mart, and walked through the sliding doors.
Unfortunately, I quickly discovered that the mart specialized in raw meat, bottled wine and pungent cheeses, so I looked for the exit. I stood in front of the sliding doors through which I entered. Nothing. I took another step closer to the glass. Still nothing. I looked for the only other set of sliding doors and encountered the same result. To the right of the doors, I saw a green pole, waist-high, capped by a white, plastic cover featuring a cartoon drawing of a person walking. With my forehead starting to feel prickly from nervous sweat, I pressed on the multi-sided cover. The doors remained resolutely closed. I whipped out my Nexus One, opened the translation app, and punched in the word emblazoned above the cartoon; the app quickly returned "emergency." Ack!
I walked up and down, looking for an exit, and saw only check-out lines and the two sliding doors. I couldn't believe it: was there no way to simply exit? I could feel my face reddening with embarrassment (how dumb am I to get stuck in a mart!) and incredulity (how dumb are they to design such a nonsensical layout!). I seriously considered buying a small box of whatever just to get through the check-out line. Just when I was about to cave, I saw the one and only real exit from the mart: squeezed between a long check-out line and a tall display of crackers, a narrow aisle funneled directly past the produce section. Basically, the mart was employing the "gift shop" technique that every museum and amusement park uses: to exit, you are forced to see stuff that you probably will want to buy.
I scurried out of that mart as fast as I could and didn't look back. Yes, I've had better days.
