novembre ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- minor hysteria crowns an underwater subvert i told them i felt sick and left work around ten o'clock. before driving back to oakland i shopped for groceries at raley's in el sobrante. the instant i stepped into that store i felt two things: vast space and deja vu. vast space: in the four years that i've lived in the bay area, i have yet to encounter a grocery store that wasn't packed to the gills, overstuffed with products and people. lines and lines of shopping carts, chewing gum and alcohol. grocery stores like albertson's are frequently scheduled for demolition a year or two in the future, so checkers are overwhelmed by the long lines and lack of space, and will not be relieved until after they tear down the building to build a bigger one. sometimes they empty the stores and the buildings sit there, vacant, because they were too small to house food and people buying food at the same time. raley's in el sobrante was probably built in the sixties; the isles are spaced at least five or six feet from each other and frozen foods have their own little islands in a wide expanse in the middle of the store. there is a deli section with low ceilings and empty floor space. old people crowd around the meats, peering at prices and usda grade. even their shopping carts are built for space; the baskets are higher off the ground, like suddenly-grown teenagers, adjacent to the check out stands so you just push your cart right up to the conveyor belt. it felt like i was underwater, or another person feeling the same things i was feeling. whole grains. i am supposed to eat whole grains. the asparagus are held too tightly by their rubber bands; each belt cuts into a stalk's belly, leaving a rectangular bruise. why are there ten different kinds of smoked turkey sausage? after a while i became so disoriented that i started to cry. i brought my jack daniels, cereal and fruit to the check out line and focused on US weekly: chris judd is finally giving an interview about his marriage to j.lo. but i didn't read that article; i focused on oscar buzz. the check out lady squinted at my license and asked me what 78 stood for. that's my birth year. 1978. oh. it's getting so i need bifocals.... did you know you picked organic asparagus? it is seven dollars more expensive than the regular kind. seven dollars more? yes. i'll have one of the girls get you a bunch of the regular ones and void this. i don't want to hold up the line. i looked over my shoulder at the two women standing behind me, watching my every movement. they were each over sixty. and both wearing a different shade of purple sweatsuit. it's no problem. i have to bag up the rest of your food anyway. carrie? put this back and get the regular kind. carrie takes the asparagus and saunters away, even the baggers move like they're underwater here. i am in a time warp. time has slowed down and i'm halfway between 1960 when these purple women were close to my age and now when i feel closer to these purple womens' ages. when carrie returns, she points out to the check out lady that both kinds of asparagus are the same. neither are organic. you shouldn't have charged her the organic price. look at the tag. oh, says check out lady. i saw that little sign there and thought that meant organic. she does not look embarrassed or put-upon. she looks at me and hands me the difference, $6.94, and wishes me a good day.
when i get home i unload everything and carefully put it away. i locate the cat and pull him into bed with me before falling asleep for five hours. five hours? i slept ten last night. my forehead is cold and my throat is not sore. i don't know what is going on. i don't feel sick but i don't feel right. i turn on the television and watch the reports on rioting in san francisco, the intersections blocked and the people arrested. a group of demonstrators are attempting to move up an on-ramp in an effort to halt traffic on the bay bridge. in berkeley the mayor and his city councilmen are starting a peace march. the television screen is flashing brilliant spots of white and yellow and i am trying to discern if the colors and explosions are happening inside my body or out of it. i don't know how to stomach war. i can barely process grocery shopping. 7:59 pm - 03.20.03 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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