I told the deli person that I needed a pound of swiss cheese. She slapped some slices on the scale and it came out to be a perfect pound. She smiled at me and said, “Well that’s a first.” I told her that where I get my meats, at Calif’s Country Store, the old men behind the meat counter take great pride in getting a perfect weight the first time around. She smiled and said that she didn’t have a car, only a mountain bike. One day she would ride her bike to Calif’s. It was a store that she had always wanted to visit. I smiled at the brown haired woman and wished her a “Good day.”
Only a bike for transportation, I thought as I made my way to the veggie and fruit section. She had said it so simply, like it was just a matter-of-fact in her life. I wonder if she rides her bike to work everyday. I wonder if she just walks when the weather is bad. If I lived in the city, I wouldn’t mind. But here?
I wandered down the veggie isle until I came upon some red peppers. “Field Peppers” the sign said. Written below was the local farm where they came from. I noticed a small Asian woman looking at the peppers. I went over to get a couple. The woman smiled at me. She had a little round face with so many lines and wrinkles that I could barely see her twinkling eyes. “They are so beautiful,” she said, picking up a long odd-shaped pepper. I smiled at her and nodded in agreement. She was right, they were much nicer than the shiny, perfectly shaped greenhouse grown peppers across the way.
I watched the little woman make her way to the cabbages. She looked so small in black pants and an old worn tan jacket. Her black hair was short, sticking out at odd angles. I wondered where she was from and what she had seen in her life. What did she see in the oddly shaped peppers that I didn’t see at first?
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