Yesterday during my lunch break I went to the Phoenix Ranch Market to pick up some groceries as well as a delicious lunch. It was hard to resist mindlessly roaming about the massive market, but my limited break kept me in line. I honestly don't know why, but I get a strange sense of euphoria whenever I visit the Ranch Market. I am a person who works best in silence, I don't like loud noises or wild screaming children, and I often get unreasonably antsy in slow moving crowds; yet somehow the combo of mariachi music, colorful banners and advertisements, heaping piles of food, scents of fresh cooked Mexican cuisine and a ubiquitous chatter in a language that I can barely understand has a way of lulling me into a calm state unlike any other I've experienced, especially in a grocery store.
Despite my calm, when it came to order my lunch I realized I was getting frustrated with the fool in front of me, not only because she was not the brightest bulb in the box, but because she couldn't speak one word of Spanish. I know it was an unreasonable expectation, but honestly, speaking louder and slower was not helping this woman's cause. After much confusion on her part I was able to patch together enough Spanish to get her on her way, and was successful in obtaining my delicious food. Food in hand and groceries bagged, I was quickly swept back into my state of joy while admiring the bakery section upon my exit. Until next time my dear Phoenix Ranch Market...
No comments:
Post a Comment