Just Let Me Be

For lunch, I ate a portion of left-over spaghetti and veggies I cooked on Sunday. My stomach is not feeling good. Oh my.

I hope I don’t get a ticket in the mail anytime soon. I think I partially passed a red light in one of the intersections with those cams; those traffic cameras, which seem to have sprout everywhere now.

Yesterday, I took detour on Pico Blvd. to get to LACMA. I stopped at a Salvadorian bakery to get fresh bread to eat with my avocado. There was simply too much good stuff there. The sights and aroma drifting from the streaming trays assaulted my senses. My eyes were as big as saucers, as they surveyed the feast before me. The tamales wrapped in banana tree leaves, the flan which looked simply decadent, bathed in a coat of syrup. I decided to get one of everything – what the heck.
The line took quite a while, as the gentleman before me ordered multiple bags of goodies. His medium frame valiantly supported close to 400 lbs., I had ample time to reflect on my previous choice and settled for one plain, and one cheese filled bread – and a diet coke.

While I listened to the transactions taking place, I was momentarily taken back to my travels to Honduras, El Salvador, Costa Rica, the accent of the people there, as well as the food and aromas took me there. My reverie was rudely interrupted by a huge glaring banner offering home sales, buy, or refinancing, smack in the middle of the bakery.

This ticked me off, though not as much as when I went to buy my avocado. I drove into the market ramp, and I saw a woman embracing a note pad at the entrance. As expected, she met me with a big smile as I approached the market entry with a cheerful good morning. I said hello and walked past her. On my way out there she was again, right in front of me asking me if I was interested in purchasing burial space. I must have looked at her kind of peculiar, because she hurriedly backed away. Perhaps it was due to my frog eyes? I almost laughed out loud and refrained from saying:”Lady, do you think I could care less about burial real estate? I only came here for one avocado, and my focus now is the destination of my soul, not of my cadaver."

I know she just needs to pay her rent, yet there must be a line as to what is appropriate. This episode reminded me of the time we were at my dad’s funeral, (basically numb), and a man in a dark suit approached us. He politely introduced himself, then proceeded to inquire if we were interested in purchasing burial plots from him.