Oh, how wonderfully neurotic is 20th-century living!Here at the mercado, even the essentials are a distant dream. The produce section is little more than soft potatoes, wilted spinach bleak and blear behind the plastic, and tomatoes of a mysterious and unnatural hue.There is not much variety, and what is available doesn’t look fresh nor healthy because it’s been imported from thousands of miles away.
So I spend most of my time perusing the canned and dried food aisles and the Cheez-It shelf.And I spend more time eating ice cream than I ever have in my life.
As a kid, I preferred fruit-flavored popsicles to creamy-textured ice creams, and now, as an adult, I vilify sugar water but justify sweetened milk from a cow’s tit, especially on a hot.
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