Ghetto Vons

The Anglos I know in my 'hood-- most of them lesbians or publicists I deal with when writing about fancy LA restaurants-- all call the local Vons grocery store "Ghetto Vons". It's totally a Vons of a particular era, with the wide windowed arch that goes from one end of the entrance to the other, trés 1960s, the aisles are small, there's no fresh bakery (not that I eat fresh baked goods from grocery stores anyway when there are plenty of madre y padre places down the road), but they do sell low-carb tortillas which I find muy hermoso in my ethinic neighborhood of beans cooked in lard. The parking lot is huge, you could fit a Costco in there with some redesign, and it's up set on a hill, which is only odd in that if the store had been built within the last decade they would have put the parking underneath and created more stores, perhaps a Starbucks, on that above ground space. But this isn't The Valley; this is Echo Park.

Anyway, yesterday I met my new friend there. She doesn't know we're friends yet, but we are. Her name is "Dimples".

I'm not making a joke, that's the name on her tag. Dimples resembles the comedienne Monique-- big, black and beautiful. Her hair is perfectly curled in Shirley Temple ringlets that fall slightly in front of her round face that has a lovely light layer of base and dark mascara lines under her eyes. Her lips are perfectly painted but not obnoxiously, only so much as to enhance her natural beauty. And she's large but not fat, wearing clothes that actually fit. Dimples is the sort of gal that a brutha could like, and being part brutha, I see the sexy in her fine frame and love her, myself.

Ghetto Vons only has two checkout lines open at a time because there's never really anyone shopping, even on weekends. I could have gone to the questionably-gay-Latino checker, but I was drawn to Dimples; she had a shorter line. And as she's ringing up the girl in front of me she says in the most monotone voice you have ever heard, "Would you like to donate $1 toward breast cancer?"

This is one of those things the stores are doing now, upselling an item for a non-profit, and while I wanted to point out that she wasn't actually raising money for cancer but probably for cancer research, I couldn't help but be amazed by Dimples. With a name like that there is such an expectation placed on the individual. Did she create the ultimate sad-girl voice in rebellion against her mamma naming her Dimples? Was she just having a bad day? Or had she really been named Dimples or nick-named Dimples at some point because she used to be a cheery woman and then Ghetto Vons dragged down her spirit so it would match the store itself: visually lovely but not holding the sort of substance one expects from a grocery store (or name) such as this one?

I wasn't sure, and I couldn't engage her too much because a Cha-Cha Chikita got in line behind me with some Suave Balsam and Protein shampoo and conditioner, but I was determined to make Dimples' day. So when it came to me, I smiled big and said, "Hi!" Dimples was caught off guard and asked how I was-- something she didn't do for the girl ahead of me-- and when she asked if I had my Vons card I said, "I'll punch in the number myself, thanks!" just to let her know I was helpful and understood how hard this day must be for her. Then she asked about helping breast cancer, and I thought I better not since there are many women in my family, and then when she asked in that same monotone if I needed help out with my three bags (which they're required to do as employees) I smiled and said, "Oh, no, but God bless ya for asking."

God is popular with the African American community, so I figured that would help.

Dimples gave me a double take, I took my bags and wished her a good day. She offered the same back and while Dimples didn't smile I did take her out of her routine. I swear I heard the monotone crack. I think my latter theory is correct, that she has just had the weight of the world placed upon her by the spirit of this store-- no one goes to that much trouble to make themselves look that beautiful if they don't really care about their life. Something must have made her this way.

It is now my personal challenge to see Dimples come back to the life she deserves. My quest for Dimples begins...