Delmas Market

Today I went to a multi-generational-women-only coffee talk (subject: the economy). In one word, it was: rad. We chatted about people, their travails and sorrows, and of course, the elusive “good life”. There were many facts about Denmark bandied about and personal outlooks confirmed. This is the wave of my future, friends: coffee talks. Time limits were enforced and book suggestions were made (Thrive). Topic of next meeting: technology. CAN NOT WAIT!

I also can't wait to really get going with my next personal project (fact: creating projects for yourself increases your overall life happiness), the life of the Delmas Market.

We live down the street from the only liquor store in our area. Since we live in the middle of San Jose, and close to the Guadalupe River, it is also the closest liquor store to many homeless people. Also, since one of our neighbors runs a half-way house for people just released from jail, and our other neighbors have what I can only surmise is an honest-to-god “on the down-low” whorehouse, the liquor store attracts a very colorful crowd.

I try not to frequent it, as life partner condemns even small purchases as contributions to its existence. It is uncanny, however, that literally EVERY TIME I enter the store, whether in the afternoon, morning or evening, there is serious craziness-drama going down. This crazy-drama has taken the form of (but is in no way limited to):

--Almost passing out while purchasing a 40 of beer
--Pimp from the 80’s with a feather hat and pink shirt entering while singing at the top of his lungs
--Addict turning her addiction to alcohol into a gambling addiction at the quarter machine they recently installed (TOTALLY PREDATORY, right?)
--Sleeping in the parking lot and then moving onto our lawn
--Impromptu gatherings in front of the store where the booze are consumed with much abandon
--Pushing over the newspaper containers
--Clerks screaming at drunk customers

When my car got smashed, I had a good talk with my neighbor about the liquor store and the craziness it brings to our street. It’s a store that has had a liquor license for over 100 years, which means it would be hard to get rid of it. I still think, however, that the craziness needs to be documented, if for no other purpose than to give me a new project. So, my goal is to learn more about the liquor store—origins and history, business model and future. I’m also going to photograph its happenings periodically. Since I have never once stepped inside to normalcy, I’m pretty sure that my daily snapshots of the store will be filled with chaos and the dark side of human nature, no matter what time of day they are taken.

For now, here it is, a beacon in the night:


While I was taking this picture there was yelling at the clerk happening inside and a woman walked out and yelled, “I got you something GOOOOOOD, “ to her friend.

New summer goal: work at least one day—open to close—in the liquor store.