If you eat organic, I’m available

HE’S talking intently about the lawsuits he’s filing against several major corporations, his songwriting and his role as a “spiritual dynamo.” He’s a burly man with the one-word pseudonym and a stack of business cards -- he’s in marketing too! -- looking for love in an unlikely place.

That is to say, he’s sitting across from me at a tiny, wobbly table in the parking lot of a Whole Foods Market in Sherman Oaks on a recent Friday evening.

We’re speed dating at a grocery store.

Cue produce jokes and references to the freezer section here.

Some 70 people -- a mixed bag, and curiously devoid of crunchy granola types -- showed up for this free event, racking up 21 dates at a dizzying pace of two minutes each.

It had been suggested to me years ago that this particular upscale chain would be a good place to hang out. Leisurely shopping in a tony venue could lead to dates, I was told. Being as jaded as I am cheap, I pooh-poohed the idea.

Since then, I’d heard from a number of single women that it is indeed the case. Lingering in the land of the gluten free and macrobiotic could mean a conversation with a well-educated, well-heeled stranger. Whether that person is your cup of pomegranate tea is for you to decide.

The stores, up to this point, hadn’t done anything formal to build their growing rep, perhaps figuring that any relationships would happen, so to speak, organically.

The store on Sepulveda Boulevard recently changed that, slapping an announcement on the marquee out front and actively recruiting some participants.

Retailer as matchmaker isn’t an entirely new concept. The behemoth Wal-Mart has been hooking up its customers in Germany for a year or more with designated singles nights. People cruise the aisles with big red bows on their carts to show they’re available, stopping at “flirting points” of wine, cheese and chocolate merchandise just in case they weren’t being obvious enough already. Could give new meaning to the blue light special.

The chain says it’s been a boon for business and for love. The program is being tested in other countries and could hit the U.S. eventually. Bargain hunters everywhere, rejoice!

It raises the questions: Will others get into the game? And could anyone really meet her soul mate at a mixer at Big Lots?

Back to Whole Foods, where, from what we could tell, no one was coming anywhere near that. One of my friend’s dates had barked at her because there were no snacks on her table, as if two minutes of chatting would work off a dangerous amount of his body fat.

Then there was the 20-year-old barista fresh out of rehab, or so he said, who gave my friend a graphic description of how he’d kill himself, if he ever really wanted to end it all.

One participant summed up her feelings at the end of the night with, “It just makes me sad.” She must’ve been thinking of the well-rehearsed man whose spiel sounded like he’d hit the play button of his internal tape recorder. Out came the following: Likes ballet and theater, fine dining, and, just when you think it’s a joke, he rocks the mother of all cliches: long walks on the beach.

I didn’t ask her to elaborate. I just shook my head.

In dating, there is no cruelty-free zone.

weekend@latimes.com