i live in south central los angeles, more or less. the neighborhood around the school here isn’t so bad, but it sure isn’t great. i’ve never had any problems myself, and i even depended on public transportation late at night for my first three years here. still, i have had friends get chased at night by weird guys, and heard plenty of mugging stories, and there is a lot of theft. so we’re sort of on the border of shady and really shady. go a few blocks south of campus (most local students live north of campus, our house next year is west of campus), and you’re not on the border anymore. you’re in a bad place to be.
basically, this is not a glamorous or beautiful place to live.
the supermarket closest to us, a non-chain-store market (which we try not to shop at, choosing the ralphs an extra block away) is very obviously shopped at by a different crowd. but that place is closer and cheaper so if you need to pick something up fast and don’t have to buy anything serious (the meat and other ‘fresh’ products are of questionable quality and that isn’t just a rumor) it’ll do the trick. tonight i needed a loaf of bread to make toast. we didn’t have any so i skated over to the market on my board to pick some up. i grabbed one and headed for the express/cash only line. normally it would have been two minutes until i was out the door again.
but today i ended up behind a woman and a little seven year old girl. they were buying a 12 pack of ramen cup-o-noodles and some vegetables. the total was $10.66. the woman was counting out quarters, dimes and nickels from a little bag to pay for her purchase, and i could tell by the way she kept looking up at the cash register readout as she dished out coins that she wasn’t paying with change just to get rid of the clutter in her purse. it took her a while to pile up enough on the counter, and for the cashier to count it out, and it made me very sad, standing behind her with my bread. i wondered what would happen if she didn’t have enough, and if it would be insulting or embarrassing to her if i offered to pay for the difference. i’m not sure if the heap of change added up or not, but the man gave the little girl four pennies and the receipt and they left.
when it was my turn, the bread rang up as $0.79, and i gave the man one dollar, although i had two ready in my hand. in his nervousness at the line that had built up while he was counting the lady’s coins, he handed me $1.21 back. i told him i’d only given him a dollar, and returned the bill, which he thanked me for. i know it was the right thing to do, but i didn’t feel good about that really. i was actually mostly sad that a mistake had been made in my favor instead of the lady in front of me. not to say that she wouldn’t have given it back too.
here’s the thing: i’m not really typing out this little experience to prove a point or to make some class-conflict statement to whoever reads this. one of the things i worry about when i think i’d like to try writing a book someday is that i’m not very good at injecting opinions or morals or substantial social critiques into things i write. it’s hard for me to wrap things around a story that goes somewhere with much purpose. i’m of the opinion that there are two separate aspects to writing a good book: good writing and good storytelling. although i’d like to think i’m alright at the first part, i’m pretty sure i’m fully lacking in the second. so maybe i should try writing something that’s only about how there isn’t really any story or purpose then — sort of like waiting for godot. only the problem is, samuel beckett already did that; and i don’t know anyone that would choose to read me over him.
i think i just wanted to share a feeling i had and try to set it up so you get the same feeling. that’s something worth practicing, i feel. maybe it’ll work out someday and i’ll do a great job of it.
but i also wanted to apologize for whining yesterday about how poor i’m going to be once i graduate. with all the things i have and will probably have, it was very immature of me. i know there are people far more spoiled and with far less to worry about all around me at my private university, but that’s no reason to beg for sympathy for having to make some long-term monthly payments on a college education. i may never have been overseas, and maybe my parents didn’t get me my own car — but still, i get to go to an all-day rock concert tomorrow. i can spend 7 dollars on a delivered pizza dinner. i own electronics that involve lasers. i have what could probably be referred to as a library of books and music. a girl was in love with me not too long ago. i’d say i’m very very lucky.
i just had to get that out of my system.