So This Is How The World Will End: by Rick Castro 4/22/2020
Apparently there was an earthquake when I was in LA. I didn’t feel it. The meds I take for me prostate always knock me out.
It’s embarrassing being old. I never tell anybody my ailments, but I’m telling the goddam world now.
I left at the crack of dawn… well 8amish… I certainly wasn’t in the same fight or flight state I was in last month. This morning I took my time, made sure I was bringing everything I wanted and needed for another month in isolation.
LA is so full of itself, It gets on my nerves. As I drive up Vermont to hit the 5Fwy, I witness what I will surely not miss.
The LA arrogance of going to a Starbucks in the morning in an oversized range-rover, taking up more than one parking space, flinging the door open without looking for on-coming traffic, wearing a mask with a muscle shirt and tight-sweats to show your bulge, during a pandemic. Why can’t you make your own coffee? I’m sure he doesn’t know how. He probably orders a Grande Latte Macchiato, half-caff, with decaf, splash of Almond Milk, with Caramel Drizzle at 120 degrees.
Going along the 14Fwy just before Pearblossom Hwy, California poppies are in full bloom. Beautiful and reassuring, I’ll take that visual to a muscle shirt & Starbucks any day. I stop off at Farmers Mart and get all my grocery needs for the next few weeks.
I’m the only shopper! The nice grocery clerk smiles thru his mask. I can tell. Everybody in Littlerock is so sweet. I decided to go across the street to Charlie Brown Farms, just to see what they have. Wow, dark chocolate covered almonds, yum! Free-range brown eggs for $2.99, snap! Grind your own peanut butter, i’m definitely gonna do that!
the sights of littlerock, ca
I’m waiting in line, this lady comes up to me in a flowered mask and says, “you know this morning someone put salted peanuts in the machine, so maybe you’d like to taste it to make sure it’s not too salty?” “Oh, I say, are you Mrs. Charlie Brown?” The two masked young checkout girls giggle and nod their heads, “she is! “ they say in unison.
“Come over to the machine and taste it, Mrs. Brown says, You can use a spoon, don’t worry nobody’s touched it,“ she says.
“Woah, that is salty. I’m gonna need water after that.” “Give this gentleman his money back, she immediately says, Check back with us tomorrow. We’ll have the usual unsalted peanuts.” “I’ve been coming here since I was a kid! I tell her all excited. She doesn’t respond. Maybe she doesn’t want to be reminded as to how old she is, or she already knew.
I’m now stopping at my favorite bodega/convenience store, It’s also the only one. I like it because they have a potbelly stove. Of course no longer needed since we’re now in the 70s and will stay that way until June when it hits 90s/100s. Gas for $2.69 a gallon… goody. I’m so happy the oil corporations will go under now that oil is negative $40 per barrel. Of course this won’t happen, but I love the idea that nobody’s buying gas. “Here you go, says the multi-color dreaded girl behind the counter thru her mask, six dollar change from your fill up. Love your hair by the way” “Hay thanks,” I reply.
When was the last time you got change from a fill up?
And now I’m turning off Pearbloosom Hwy onto the dirt road that leads back to Bee’s cabin. Aaawwww, here’s my neighborhood, dirt roads, and abandon homesteads. Its good to be home!
So this is how the world will end.
copyright- rick castro- 4/2020
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