My Cardboard Box

Life in the Mojave: Part 9

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Early Saturday mornings at Next to The Park have turned into Stater Brothers grocery runs. There amongst the day-old bread offerings, a handful of seniors wandering the aisles with nothing else to do, and the legions of zombie-like hungover stockers, one can find the occasional gem.

Consider: A large man, late twenties, with the typical high-desert fashion statement of shaved head, ginger chin-whisker and earring, and ‘Sturgis’ t-shirt and cargo shorts. The difference is the relatively-well behaved children, a girl of perhaps seven dancing about and a young, skinny boy around four riding in the cart. Apparently this is an adventure for all; Mom must be getting the rare chance to sleep in.

They wander the aisles, the girl retrieving goods her father points out, the lad continually asking for ‘cocoa puffs’ (“they’re in the next aisle!” he replies – for the fourteenth time.) . Finally they approach the main thoroughfare at the rear of the store, where the butcher is sharpening his knives and a high-school kid is laying out steaks in the cooler.

“So what else do we need?”, the father asks his offspring. “Juice? No – we got bread. Salad? A different kind of cereal?”

A short pause.

“A one-way ticket out of here?”

Sorry, dude. Not in stock – I checked. They can’t even special order it for you.


Written by PappyBro

April 9, 2011 at 15:15

Posted in Musings, The Mojave

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