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Tuesday, April 5, 2016

Albertson's Groceries, Store Review, 775 S. Tucker Rd. Tehachapi, CA 93561

Albertson’s Groceries, Store Review                                             
775 S. Tucker Rd.  Tehachapi, CA 93561



Articulate enough to envision a symbolic letter over a plant image near this locality’s apellido, as company signage across a more south road.  Retail geography can be bold against weather at a moment too soon, very much with its construction of emotions via workers.  Food should be art sometimes, although I’m acute with Florida Cola, meanwhile saving coffee, casually acknowledging a personal equation right with my light acquirement of creamer with no alcohol, sleeping that daze, squeezed into motion during the pizza pursuit for Italian lavatories and Mexican cake.  Really, there’s the summary of my change of lottery decisions included with my ticket for precious time.  “I buy milk and earn Monopoly!”  When a reviewer speaks of quality, that person illustrates his or her literacy.  Store operations tend to get separated, I save.  We should believe in our dollars to be clear as special since family histories turn spooky with our tales concerning groceries and citizen terms.  Kmart’s coffee selection is less than modest compared to Albertson’s coffee choices on coffee demand, yet still I win great bags of dessert coffee around the 24-hour-mark, so I think of time as a meeting when an enemy gets a gross humor for baby apples and pirate potatoes.  That cashier’s name can be an echo down these slopes to bound within a growing circle, or society’s packing with room remaining doors just to stop my beginning trance lowered into one: my tricks of a spoon near the combs, the healthy jacks that burn rubber by their collision with those wisdom teeth of mine.  What’s a reference to cash after childhood?  “Thank You For Shopping At ALBERTSONS.”  I try to imagine storms from trains by ostrich burgers and Albertson’s store selections, where people keep some muscles still while engaging or retreating, and I’m just in operation-one-twenty.  Penguin water is sold out, but there’s items of number and directors of coffee.  Only children can be around for our first words because nature’s features often reside in our minds and we grow to be children, and toy submarines have their completions with codes of happiness like “VNX1 Tons Seventy” or “Real Wu.”  Personally, a writer needs a diet of Termination #35 or congratulations.  “Green Monopoly Tickets!”  Well, all the damn dogs bark at me and my phone is fairly intelligent, so then I pick up Albertson’s plastic bags with tears for tears against the glow of magnitude, in tune with my approval, crushing my sausage against the back seat with the nutritious yolk, getting by slowly yesterday, maintaining gifts from bills while diving into aisles for glass coffee and glass soda, which is the savings of a diet.  I tender my consciousness instead of accounting a description of flying vitality, on meanings with a believer of bonus coins and cartoon balloons, changing my love for the strict gaze of hues, screwing my almonds where they don’t belong, tasting the clouds and burning my juice, meanwhile obscuring the imagination as a dreaming seer into Albertson’s fortunes of days and nights into one a glowing sections of envy.  

This is Kalvin P.'s photo from Yelp for Tehachapi.
I like it when stores have so much light, but I'm into darkness too.
Sure, this isn't the Elephant Bar, but fruit is delicious to look at.


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