“Cheap Cigarettes” – words you’d expect in the window of a gas station, but in the foyer of a library? $1.50 a pack for Seneca cigarettes it said. He had examples to show me it said. Wish I’d taken a picture of that sign for you all to see….
Craving chocolate, I stopped by the local drug store. No luck in the front of the store, so I wandered to the back where I found I could buy a hot dog at the snack bar. A couple of people occupied the stools in front of the counter. A quick glance at the menu overhead told me they weren’t selling chocolate. That, combined with the “you’re-not-from-around-here” looks the counter staff gave me caused me to move toward the pharmacy. Bingo.
Oh, but if it were only that easy. Time moves differently down here. So I patiently waited as the woman in front of me was helped – not just with her prescription, but then to a nearby bench because she’d been standing on her bad leg too long. “And can you get me a bigger bag so I can put all my stuff in it?” she asked the pharmacist, who eagerly attended to her every need. My father would have made some under-his-breath comment at this point, but I have a little of my mother’s patience in me as well, so I didn’t mind waiting – all the more time to decide between a Milky Way and Peanut M&M’s. I chose the latter – priced at seventy-three cents. Seventy-eight with tax. I can’t remember the last time I’ve gotten a candy bar for less than a dollar. But even more peculiar was this: other candy bars were seventy or seventy-seven cents. I can only imagine the guy that pores over the books for this place.
Adelaide and I then headed back to the Folk School. For those of you that don’t know, she conked out the day after I got here. With a jump, she could get going, but then lose all her power after an overnight in the parking lot. She’s back to working now. But there’s a big hole where my radio used to be. But that’s a story for another day. The important thing is that today, I got a much-needed top-down drive into town.
In other news, I’m taking a spinning class this weekend. When I told this to my youngest sister last night, I felt the need to qualify that statement: Spinning as in wool, not bikes. For those of you that still have no idea, go back to your childhood fairy tale books and re-read Sleeping Beauty. Pay careful attention to the part where she pricks her finger…