I adore the casually-accepted richness of an American grocery store. The glaring light,the cool produce and tinned and boxed food, the Muzak--and especially this corner fill of flowers and festive balloons to celebrate birthdays, anniversaries, infidelities--or to take a sick person some little taste of the bright, forced cheerfulness of the place.
I like the way the central images are bracketed by the flourescent lights and the chrome bars. The real flowers weem dwarfed by their mylar counterparts.