Walking through Azusa
This weekend I did something I don’t think I’ve ever done before. I decided to take a walk around town and actually see the city in which I dwell.
I stopped by the the local Spanish-speaker’s supermarket, King Ranch Market, to pick up some bread, juice, and some other perishables. The juice was easy enough to find, as were the lunchmeats. The bread, on the other hand, was surprisingly difficult to locate. I could have, however, had my choice of a countless different brands of tortillas scattered throughout the store and down the entire length of one aisle. There were also five variety of beans to choose from in large barrels sold by the pound. Bags of fresh hot peppers for eighty-eight cents per four-pound bag. I learned that Goya makes everything under the sun. After twenty minutes of walking around, i finally found the bread section. It took up the bottom half of a five-foot segment at the end of one aisle, next to the potato chips. There were four brands of bread to choose from, none of which I recognized. At the check-out counter, none of the magazines were in English.
