Being a record of certain phenomena found in the environs of the Lost Quarter.

Scenes from a Saturday Night at the Grocers

Outside it’s cold, the snow in the parking lot packed down so hard it’s now ice. People step lightly on it, like curlers following a rock poised for the call to sweep, shuffling inside and stamping their feet in the entrance to discard any snow from their boots. The mats are swamped, heavy with melted snow and bits of gravel and refuse that were brought in with it. There are small pools of muddy water trailing beyond it into the store, the automatic doors opening and closing over it.  

The store gleams, the white floors and ceiling shining. The cacophony hits like a wave cresting as they step within. Music and chatter and announcements blending together, impossible to ignore and hard to distinguish anything. Immediately in front of the entrance are the fruit and vegetable stands and to the left of that the grocery aisles, beyond which they can glimpse the meat counter. A few people are browsing, pushing carts and checking items off their lists. To the right are the prepared food counters, crowded with people ordering barbecue skewers, grilled squid, kaldereta, adobo, sinigang, fried fish and pork belly.  

A bandstand is set up behind the diners eating at the rows of tables. A man and a woman are on it alternating karaoke songs – the ones everyone knows. The speakers are turned up loud so that the singers can be heard over the chatter at the tables. The diners are seemingly oblivious of the singing, keeping on with their conversations. At the food counters customers and servers call out to be heard over the din. A crackly microphone interjects when orders are ready. 

It creates an odd symphony. I will love you forever. An endless love. My heart is broken. Value meal number 1 is ready. Value meal 1 is ready. A woman dances by the pomelos, swinging her newborn around while her husband looks on bemused leaning against the cart. 

They stand in line. The woman taking orders is called up to the bandstand to sing. Ms. Josephine. She yells back that she is still on shift, but no one can hear. The family before them keep adding to their order as they move down the line and see more dishes. Ms. Josephine catches their eye and asks for their order. Two value meals, a pork skewer, rice, bitter gourd atchara and choice of side. Fried scad as a treat. Ms. Josephine overflows a plastic container with mung beans and hands it to them.  

They pass by the bandstand on the way out where they are between songs. We’re here every Saturday. Thank you for your support. Try the value meal. Outside the sun has set and the snow glistens under the streetlights.