nobody walks in l.a.

For whatever reason, this popped into my head today. Maybe it was because I was thinking it might be a good idea to make plastic grocery bags out of a material that was soluble in water (then again maybe not). Or maybe it was because I was feeling a bit caged up and remembering a time when I made do.

During my first two years of college, I lived in a planned community several miles from campus. Not having a car, was clearly not part of the plan. Still, somehow I managed.

The walk to the bus stop was just shy of half a mile. It really wasn't that far, but unless I wanted to hop a fence, I had to go the long way around - short cuts were also not in the plan.

I waited for the bus in a strawberry field. It is no longer a strawberry field. There are now rows of identical homes. There was no bench, just a bus stop sign. After a rain, which was thankfully rare, I had to deal with mud.

The bus schedule sucked. At peek hours the bus came by twice an hour. Otherwise it ran hourly. The last bus home left campus at 9:03pm. Needless to say, I was not a party girl.

Grocery shopping was quite a chore. Plastic bags were just becoming popular, and made it possible for me to carry more than I would have if I had to carry a paper sack by the bottom. By the time I got to the front door my fingers were numb.

One day I remember returning home from the grocery store and one of my bags breaking along the way. Inside was a glass jar of pasta sauce. It shattered all over the sidewalk, making a big red mess. I felt terrible, but I had a hard enough time getting everything else home. By the time I did, I was exhausted.

When I went back later, someone had cleaned it up. I was so embarrassed, but not enough to knock on the door and apologize. I was also afraid that I had broken some rule of the community and figured I would be cited and fined.


on the night stand :: Girls in Trucks