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Piggly Wiggly
Tuesday, September 29, 2009 at 05:58AM 
I have this theory when I travel that you can tell a lot about a place by the most basic items in their local grocery stores. I've been in small neighborhood grocery stores in Paris, Germany, Mexico, Canada and I also seek them out in the United States when I can find small independently owned ones (if you read my blog, you know I love to find groceries in Japan town, etc.). I even make my friends take me to Wawas when I'm back east. Wawa is not too unique content-wise (although I love the Hostess v. Tasty Cake divide that happens between the east and west coast) but I love the name and you can't find a Wawa out where I live. So what has been my holy grail of all unique groceries? Piggly Wiggly, naturally.
If you've read any books (or seen movies) about the South. Piggly Wiggly was probably in there somewhere. Every angst-filled Southern teen grabbed at least one soda from the PW at some point in some story you've read. So imagine my delight when some of my Fiskateer friends (and by friends, I mean that crafters who I had never met but took time out of their day to drive out and meet me because we share that crazy bond that people who love their hobbies share) in Tennessee went out of their way to find a Piggly Wiggly to take me to. To quote Project Zoe for the millionth time: It was bananas. The logo? I die.
If you haven't traveled with me, you think I'm exaggerating. Piggly Wiggly IS "just" a small grocery store. There were probably, maybe, 4 registers with only one lane open. But the thing is, I LOVED the signs out front*, I loved the crazy logo that apparently was not so subtly stolen from Warner Bros. Porky Pig drawings. Most of all, I loved the Piggly Wiggly branded food. Who would guess such a small store would have their own spaghetti? And lastly, but not leastly, I loved the dentally challenged (cashier? stock boy? manager?) who literally offered me the Piggly Wiggly shirt right off his back when he found out that I was elated to be in a Piggly Wiggly all the way from Reno, Nevada. And I equally loved the cashier ringing me out who leaned over and, in that great Tennesee accent, made it clear, in a low voice, that I really and truly needed to re-think taking her co-worker's shirt. On second glance at the generous man, I truly appreciated the cashier's wisdom and foresight. And P.S. I made Piggly Wiggly brand spaghetti and sauce last night and you know what, it was inexpensive and pretty darned good- even subtracting the fun factor of my kids chanting about eating Piggly Wiggly Pasta during the whole meal. Thanks PW & thanks Ziggyeor, Bettye & Pinky for trusting me when I told you that I would enjoy Piggly Wiggly more than any other Nashville landmark you could take me to.
*and here, guilt dictates that I point out that I'm not making fun of food stamps here- my own family had their own food stamp moments in the early 70's. But am I laughing about advertising it on a huge sign with a faux Porky? Maybe.
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Reader Comments (7)
Thanks Angela for taking us out to PW 18 miles away where I probalby would have never set foot in one otherwise. It was great fun :D and I enjoyed meeting you!
I love this post! I'm so glad you had a great time and love the photo.
You must have found a tiny Piggy Wiggly! We have them here that are huge!
I used to shop with my Grandmother at the Piggly Wiggly in Hot Springs, AR.. I don't think it's still there, but the name of the store always cracked me up (my Grandmother could NOT figure out what was so funny).
Hi Angie. I found your useful list of scrapbook challenge sites and would like to suggest two more to add to it. One is Journaling Junkie http://journalingjunkie.blogspot.com/
and the other is BASB http://www.thebasb.blogspot.com/
I loved reading your Piggly Wiggly post! My grandparents lived only 30 minutes away from B.C. Canada and when I'd go visit we used to go to B.C. and stop at the Piggly Wiggly on our way to the lake for lunch stuff. I always thought that it was such a strange name for a grocery store and couldn't believe they charged 25 cents to use the carts! :-)
Oh, Ang, I just love you.
As a Southerner, though, I must point out a factual error: the girls in the stories could not have gotten a soda from Hoggly Woggly (my grandpa called it that) because we don't say soda. We say Coke. Even if it's Pepsi (hard to come by in Georgia, home of Coke), or Sprite, or whatever. It's all Coke.