Ahi-Crusted Marshmallows, Aisle Two

“Jar Cheese.” The bewildering term hung above a lonesome aisle in a Hughes grocery store in West Los Angeles. Jar cheese? Was it so popular that it warranted its own directional?

Most supermarket aisle signs hover innocuously enough above shoppers’ heads: “Paper Products,” “Coffee/Tea,” even “Canned Meat.” A few reflect their highfalutin surroundings. “Pool Supplies” once swayed at the Malibu Hughes, for example. But it’s the wild cards, with their bizarre diction and murky logic, that stop a shopper cold: “Who thought of that?”

Take “Glass Juice,” spied at several markets with management that, for some inexplicable reason, did not opt for the more reasonable “Bottled Juice.” Or “Incontinents,” implying that actual sufferers of the malady are stacked on the shelves. Or “Wild Bird Food,” that gives no regard to those hungry domesticated birds. Or “New Age Beverage.”

What exactly constitutes a “New Age Beverage?” “It must be these juice squeeze things,” says Walter, an employee at a Ralphs in West Los Angeles that is home to the sign. He points to some sparkling-water-and-fruit concoctions. “Hey, Jerry,” he shouts to a co-worker shoving Sprite onto shelves, “what’s New Age beverage?”

To which Jerry asks, confused: “New Age spareribs?”