Wednesday, March 25, 2009

Hassayampa Store

She sent us in with a Food Stamp each. I don't remember how many of "us" there were, but it had to be at least us five, along with whoever she was letting live with us at the time. I'd estimate three more kids, if not more.
Our mission was simple: Get something small, spending as little of our tiny allowance as possible. Something like a couple Tootsie Rolls or a $0.10 pack of stick gum would do the trick. I deliberated, then pulled a Bullet out of the small freezer by the register. $0.99. Take that, bitch.
I am about ten years old, but this is routine. I know what this raid on Hassayampa Store is for. We all do. She's out of beer. She's sending us in with the last few Food Stamps we have for groceries so she can buy a 40oz of King Cobra or Natural Ice with the change we bring back to her. I come out looking smug, and I'm sure she can see the glimmer of silent joy in my eyes as I hand her the penny back. My heart skips in my chest when I see her eyes glowering at me. It was worth it.

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