Beginning Sunday July 11, Disco Kroger will close at 11 pm weeknights and re-open at 7 am, during ongoing renovations.
Can it even retain the title Disco Kroger if it isn’t a 24 hour store? Perhaps. As long as the reduced hours are temporary.
Disco Kroger is the Kroger on Euclid, so named for its reported status as Lexington’s first 24-hour Kroger (making it one of the area’s best pick-up/cruising spots after-hours in the 70s).
Rumor has it that the new renovations could be a stepping-stone to Disco Kroger transforming to a Fresh Fare Kroger. (Ace started that rumor last year — fingers crossed!)
Atlanta’s Disco Kroger successfully transformed into a Fresh Fare Kroger in 2008, with “$1,000 temperature-controlled wines, fresh organic treats and chef-made entrees.” Kroger’s site says their Fresh Fare stores “feature expanded organics, gourmet pastry shoppe, bulk natural foods, gourmet meats and cheeses, fresh sushi.” Everyone knows Lexington likes construction projects with an “E” added to the end, and all their promotional materials tout “Shoppes” in their Fresh Fares. If they build it….
According to the Atlanta Journal Constitution’s photo gallery of their transformation from Disco Kroger to Fresh Fare, “if you need an exotic fruit like Buddha’s hand citron, shown here, you’ll find it”
In the ongoing quest of Ace Readers to name all the Krogers, Disco Kroger has always had the greatest consensus.
Although it’s been aging badly for some time, and the surrounding neighborhood is well-positioned to support a Fresh Fare, even in the current economy, hopefully the renovations won’t stamp out its current neighborhood “charms.”
Or, as The Plug wrote wistfully of Atlanta’s Murder Kroger,
“Despite its flaws, Murder Kroger is part of what gives Downtown Atlanta its unpredictable character. We tolerate it, because it’s ours. I’d even go so far as to say that Murder Kroger needs to be preserved, much like Graceland, so that future generations can witness a train wreck frozen in time. Heaven forbid that Murder Kroger ever clean up its act, because the number of good stories that Atlantans tell each other will surely plummet. ‘I shopped at Sellout Kroger. I found the popcorn right away.'”
