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Feb. 18th, 2004 12:59 amThere's something to be said for those moments when you realize that you are not in Kansas anymore...
I grew up in a very protected suburb in Southern California. If you've ever seen Edward Scissorhands, Valencia was the model for Tim Burton's vision of suburbia in that film.
I now live in Midtown Sacramento, which can best be described as a semi-urban area (something that isn't quite as rough and tumble as urban but has more character and hobos than suburban). I had my semi-urban moment tonight when I found myself at Safeway at midnight desperately seeking out washing detergent. At the check out I had three people ahead of me--one grumpy old man who was bitching about the price of menthol cigarettes, one bum who was hitting up everyone in line for change so that he could afford his 40 ounces of Fosters Beer ( I should mention that he was holding up the entire line while he did this) and several hipsters buying supremely crappy beer. It was a snapshot of urban life. Then the line next to me was opened up by an African American clerk and was immediately stormed by an older African American man. The clerk refused to serve the man because he had cut in front of a line of people. The man continued to put his groceries on the belt and accused the clerk of being racist. The clerk waved people ahead of the man. A shoving match ensued. The clerk, the man, and another customer were all duking it out when I left the store. Again, a snapshot of urban life.
How I love the big city.
Ha.
I grew up in a very protected suburb in Southern California. If you've ever seen Edward Scissorhands, Valencia was the model for Tim Burton's vision of suburbia in that film.
I now live in Midtown Sacramento, which can best be described as a semi-urban area (something that isn't quite as rough and tumble as urban but has more character and hobos than suburban). I had my semi-urban moment tonight when I found myself at Safeway at midnight desperately seeking out washing detergent. At the check out I had three people ahead of me--one grumpy old man who was bitching about the price of menthol cigarettes, one bum who was hitting up everyone in line for change so that he could afford his 40 ounces of Fosters Beer ( I should mention that he was holding up the entire line while he did this) and several hipsters buying supremely crappy beer. It was a snapshot of urban life. Then the line next to me was opened up by an African American clerk and was immediately stormed by an older African American man. The clerk refused to serve the man because he had cut in front of a line of people. The man continued to put his groceries on the belt and accused the clerk of being racist. The clerk waved people ahead of the man. A shoving match ensued. The clerk, the man, and another customer were all duking it out when I left the store. Again, a snapshot of urban life.
How I love the big city.
Ha.
