That’s me, trying to get to the store to buy the carrot cake dessert hummus–the best healthy food invention in my opinion– but made a wrong turn. And you know if you make a wrong turn in a town like Edison, it will take you twenty minutes to correct it. That’s just the nature of the traffic here. Edison was established long ago when there were 10,000 residents, with far less cars. When the population exploded to 100,000, roads had to be built so close to people’s front yard that on the garbage day, the ubiquitous green trash containers nearly touch your rear view mirror and can dump some of the content into your back seat if your window is rolled down. Many back streets become the indispensable detour for cars trying to avoid the jammed junctions–several times I even saw big 18 wheeler trucks wondering in the narrow neighborhood alleys. There are no one-way streets–thankfully this is not as bad as the City–but plenty of no-left-turn streets with tiny inconspicuous no-turn sign one foot underneath the traffic lights.
Route 27 in Edison is one of the most dangerous road in the world, I think. The speed limit is 40 but people usually do 45 or even 50 miles. There are numerous small strip malls on each side along the way that you see cars coming out and going in and turning left or right all the time. Accidents are common, but still for years, 40-mile-limit is here to stay. A car with NY license plate emerges, driving haltingly because he doesn’t know the way. Can’t you get a GPS? Of course not. I know why–GPS doesn’t work for New York City–either it points to a route that’s jammed for hours, or an outdated route that’s already been impassable, or tell you to do left turn when left turn is forbidden according to a new traffic rule. So why bother to get a GPS at all. “But GPS works for New Jersey, you idiot.” I yell at him. I can understand why the most polite person can become a savage behind the wheel. Suddenly the idiot changes his course and speeds up. It’s early morning and not as much traffic. “Don’t drive so fast. It’s a dangerous road.” I yell at him again. It feels so good to yell. Women need to speak as often, loud, impetuous as men.
A middle-aged man wearing shorts to come to the store. Can you believe that? It’s 35F, barely above the freezing point with blowing wind and no sunshine. And this man don’t even bother to wear something warm for his legs. This is why he is likely to go for a knee replacement surgery at the time of retirement. After years of reckless endangerment of his own joints, what can you expect? Protect your legs please, you idiot, and help reduce the medical insurance cost for everybody.
“I see black pepper and paprika. I don’t see white pepper.” A man is speaking to his wife on his phone while simultaneously trying to manipulate his phone to shoot an image of the shelf. I guess his wife refuses to believe him and he’s trying to get a piece of visual evidence to support his claim. “What’s the difference between black and white pepper anyway? What pepper have we been using?” He says to the phone. What an idiot. He doesn’t even know the difference between white and black pepper. That should be food 101 of Asian cooking. I can imagine he’s an engineer or a scientist type who’s an idiot about domestic issues, and his wife usually does all the shopping, except today. Maybe they have a party later at home and his wife has to stay at home cooking. Now he’s blocking the entire section with his body and his cart, filling the while aisle with his voice.