Fruit Barn-Home Run Liquors

Vida is now playing at yet another soccer venue, this one way out on Ocean Avenue and Jules. I found I had only 30 minutes for the 40 minute drive to pick up Vic in between. Because I am a creature of habit I was schlepping back the way I usually do when I suddenly realized that if I went around the opposite way down 19^th Avenue I could cut maybe 15 minutes off my travel time. It’s amazing what can happen when you open your mind. Similar revelations are common when Vic and I go to new markets—it’s like visiting another world where people think entirely differently than you do. Going a different direction meant another vein of markets and restaurants to mine in an area we have never explored before.

I am always aware of the risk I take when I pick up Victor and he says “what do you have for me” and I don’t have anything for him to eat. Sometimes I can put him off with a vision of pushups to come at a nearby market but if he is in a particularly ornery mood it doesn’t work. The other night he worked himself into a full fit before we got anywhere near our destination. But amazingly he had complete insight into the fact that he was “having a hard time” and calmed down as we were approaching our destination, the Fruit Barnon Ocean Avenue. Ocean Avenue being so close to City College means that many of the businesses cater to students. The area has that run down college feel with lots of fast food. The Fruit Barn obviously has a long history and has probably seen better days. The sign is so faded it can barely be read—the stock photo I’ve included in the post has to have been from better days. This is the kind of place that people who love, or love to hate, natural foods stores point to as the epitome of the genre. The place is half open market with lots of produce, unfortunately much of it conventional, displayed outside and a large building with high ceilings and shelving from every era since World War II.

I was getting kind of hungry myself so I picked out some Murcott tangerines and Victor grabbed a small seedless watermelon. I got a mango for Vida. When we went in Victor of course focused on finding a push up but there was little in the way of frozen beyond a small ice cream freezer with no ice cream. We wandered a bit more and took a picture in front of the produce inside, displayed haphazardly in ugly plastic bins. The scruffy owner was walking around clearly the king of his dysfunctional fiefdom. He wanted to make sure we knew that he knew we were taking pictures asking if we wanted a picture of him as well. I found him to be kind of creepy—the kind of guy with a penchant for hiring young, attractive City College girls as cashiers and then losing interest when they won’t go out with him. The grocery selection was as eccentric as expected, the least popular items of most natural foods brands including Bob’s Red Mill 13 bean soup mix and million-grain cereal. We made a quick impulsive purchase of some “Got Milk” chocolate drops in a cow-patterned package but Vic still wasn’t happy. They didn’t have any beer so I wasn’t completely satisfied myself.

We wandered to the corner across the street to Homerun Liquors with another faded but fascinating sign. There were three Middle Eastern guys hanging out and talking animatedly in Arabic sitting on chairs near the front of the store. This is the kind of scene that I expect to see more often than I do. Working at a store with a limited set of customers and little to stock has to be painful. It makes sense to me that people should keep each other company in these kinds of places but usually there is just one lonely man or woman trying to stave off the boredom. There wasn’t much to look at beyond the basic corner store chips and cans but I wandered to the back and chose a 24 oz. Coors in a can. I have wanted to try Coors for nostalgic reasons. When I was little, my parents were thrilled with a new fangled 8 oz can of Coors with its introductory ad campaign boasting that it was “fresher” than other beers. When we got to the counter the friendly guy ringing us up offered Victor a Tootsie Roll sucker. As Victor chose his flavor I could see that the tide had turned for my cranky boy, the evening was saved with this small gesture.

Vic’s Snack—“Got Milk” Chocolates and seedless watermelon and a Push-Up Vida’s Snack—Mango Mama’s Snack-- Sour Murcotts Beer of the day—24 oz Coors