I have never been in a store that combined all the above features until yesterday. (Not even Honest Ed's. Honest Ed's merely needs signage to be comprehensible. It doesn't have it for the obvious reason.) Blahblahs at St. Clair and sort-of Bathurst, you fail utterly.
This place is purportedly a supermarket. Its single roadside entrance is cleverly concealed under the banner for the photo store, one of many large signs, none of which are for Loblaws proper. On entering you're in a tiny entry space and must at once make two right turns, passing through a small bakery and coffee section with no supermarket in sight. You then come to a moving sidewalk that goes up to the second floor. Arriving at the second floor you find yourself in a football field of greengrocery. This is fine if you want veg but I'd never buy my veg from Blahblahs. Where are the dry goods?
Ah, for *those* you must traverse the football field to its far corner, round the wall there, and *then* a second football field of aisles opens before you. I'm accustomed to Blahblahs' idiosyncratic shelving policy from my local version of same (which doesn't have the *room* to stock my soy powder breakfast shake, is why I'm here up the hill.) I still must make my way through the organic section, which doesn't have soy powder, and the meal supplement section, which has the wrong kind of soy powder, and ask a clerk where this eminently forgettably named stuff hides out. Ah! It's in the diet section! Obviously. Those vitamins and minerals aren't meal replacements, they're diet aids.
I can only assume there's a grand royal entrance on the parking lot side for those who come in their cars. I didn't see it. And if there is, screw you again, Blahblahs. Your carbon footprint dirties Toronto's skies.
At least there are bike posts on the St Clair side. Pausing only to dodge cars turning left from St Clair, cars turning right, cars heading straight to that little street that goes nowhere, and streetcars preparing to descend the ramp into the station, I mount my bicycle and pedal away to civilization at the foot of the hill. Coming up, I noted the region houses sporting lawn signs saying Shop on St Clair!, evidently a move to keep local businesses alive. Fat bloody chance, man.