I love the Piggly Wiggly in my town. Not that it's a great store-- no, not even close. Rather, it's like stepping back in time. Don and I were talking the other day, remembering the evolution of stores in that particular spot: first, some store that doesn't exist any more; then Big Star, Big Apple, something else, then Piggly Wiggly. It was one of two grocery stores when we were little kids. I remember going there with bare feet, loving the chill of the floor on my toes, stepping in off the hot asphalt. Oh, we were country kids. I'm grateful that my parents let my brother and me be as country as we could be. They still felt like we were city kids, though :)
Anyway, the cooler along the right side of the store is the same exact one that was there in the 70's, and the manager's station is still on a weird raised platform, looking out over the beer section. The vegetables along the left side of the wall are sketchy (but I did get some awesome avacados, 4 for .99!) and there were huge pallets of peanuts, but it felt good in there-- I can't fully explain why (except that it got me away from creepy bagger guy at my regular store. I'll explain later). I was a little girl in that store, following my dad around and hoping for a coke in a glass bottle and one of those fried pies, coated in sugar, that used to come wrapped in wax paper.
As I walked out the door, back into the sunshine, I noticed a bench with three good ol' boys just to the right of an ancient Coke machine. They were talking to another ol' boy in a little white truck, his little girl beside him on the seat, sipping something from Dairy Queen. I didn't get the first part of the conversation, but I just had to laugh at the snippet that I caught:
"Well shoot. If you were in court every time they wanted you there, you'd pert near live there!"
Well, don't I know it?