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Showing posts from January, 2013

when food world's collide

Three and a half months ago I stopped through West Virginia for the first time since I left. I was en route to a wedding in Lexington, Virginia and wanted to see if Rupert had changed. It had not, aside from the hillbilly version of Walgreen’s resting in peace.
I arrived in the late afternoon, just before they closed for the day. I’m as giddy as a child in a candy store, minus twenty pounds. This does not go unnoticed, as the first thing Scarlett says to me is something about my ‘chicken legs.’ The repetition of ‘how’ve you been’ and the smell of powdered apple cider on the hot plate reminded me of a different time.
A camouflaged twenty-something man walks in with an unusual purpose. He asks if they have vinyl records. My interest was peeked. There’s a tension in the air that mixes with the cider that makes me feel things. Scarlett seemed put-off or perhaps just confused by such a radical request. I was thrown off by the idea that anyone in Rupert actually had a record player. Homebo…