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.
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| 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. |
