When I was little I had an independent streak that merged perfectly with the kind of lax supervision that was the norm in the late 1960’s. At two years old I decided that waiting to be taken to Katterman’s by my parents was for babies. I was going to make the trek two blocks and one street crossing away by myself. I got hold of some pennies and decided that there was a box of Flicks with my name on it if I could only get there. I managed to get there safely, grabbed my box of Flicks and went up to the counter. I was well known there but I’m sure they were surprised to see me on my own. The woman behind the counter explained to me that Flicks cost ten cents and I only had three pennies and that I could get some chocolate covered mints from the jar on the counter if I liked. I think they were just buying time so they could call my mother—yet they let me out the door to walk back home by myself. Somebody called her because I remember her waiting for me. Thankfully I don’t remember being yelled at or scolded in any way.
I made many, many trips to Katterman’s by myself when I got a bit older, some of them were approved but often I would just decide to go. My favorite kind of afternoon was when Dad would give me 50 cents to go to the store. When I was about nine I was obsessed with Wacky Packages. I took dollar bills from my Mom’s purse or raided my Uncle Dee’s jar of coins so my friends and I could go blow it on the ten-cent packages. During the summer Katterman’s wouldn’t do because they didn’t have ice cream. We would go to Tradewell, the grocery store down the street from Katterman’s and buy popsicles or Cragmont sodas.
Vida is dying to go to the store by herself. Every other day she points out some kid that looks about her age and asks why they get to be alone on the street but she doesn’t. I feel bad that we are so conditioned to be fearful that I don’t feel comfortable letting her go. Maybe when Victor is older and they can go together . . . For now it’s just me and Vic hitting the weird corner stores in San Franciso.
The other day I had a half hour before picking Vida up at Hebrew School. I had plans to visit a certain market but the traffic was too busy to turn left after pulling out of Muffinville. I like being guided by randomness so I just kept driving opposite our usual direction down California Street. I stopped at the first market I saw which happened to be the New California Food Market on 19th. I have to say my first impression was that there wasn’t anything very “New” about it. The sign near the front door was faded. It was a fairly large so I though it possible they could be serious about the “food” and care less about the “liquor. Eight blocks is a long way to go without a corner store in San Francisco so it was possible that they provided an important neighborhood service.
All my hopes were dashed when we walked in. It was a classic case of big dreams and no execution or no money or maybe just drug money. On my left were empty bulk coffee bins and non-existent brewed coffee. On my right was a completely empty deli case. The usual candy bar racks were right in the front of the grocery aisles. The aisles themselves were a combination of grocery basics and a time machine. The top shelves had a random selection of typical groceries, soups, crackers, pickles etc merchandised haphazardly. There was cake mix next to mustard and laundry soup next to soup. Nothing was on the floor because they had plenty of empty space on the shelves. The bottom shelves were filled with all sorts of beverages. Some of them were regular sodas but others were the kind of random drinks you end up with when brokers or other salespeople give you the deal of the century on the next hit beverage. There were weird aloe drinks and off brands of water and poor selling energy drinks. I could see the past couple of years go by on those shelves since many of those vendors also stopped in at our store. There was another aisle filled with packaged soup and meal mixes, an entire product line of crap they bought thinking they could turn gourmet. They could have gotten rid of half of the shelving and still had room to spare. There were non-working coolers filled with beer and wine back-stock.
When I asked Victor what he wanted he looked around and couldn’t find anything until he spotted an ice cream freezer. He picked out a large Popsicle and I got one for Vida too. I was pretty thrilled with my 24 oz Red Stripe in a can. I also got a small box of Ritz crackers since Vida had been asking for cheese and crackers in her lunch. When I first took some pictures outside I noticed the guy behind the counter eyeing me suspiciously and lingering around wasn’t making things any more comfortable so I decided to pack it up.
Vic’s Treat—Lifesavers Popsicle Vida’s Treat—Ritz Crackers Beer of the Day—24 oz Red Stripe in a can.
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