In Brighton, Home Depot was a brisk hour’s walk away, so I was delighted to see that it is a mere 40 minutes from our house, in the neighboring town of Bloomfield.
We waited for a bus in downtown Montclair and promptly made
the mistake of asking an insane person how much the bus fare is. A bus
came by, differently-numbered than the one we were supposed to take, so we let
it pass, scooping up the insane person with it. The Phone then told us that
that was the bus we were supposed to take, and then gave us a high-resolution
middle finger. We decided to walk.
When we reached Glen Ridge, a fancy area, we waited for a
bus again. Tim’s phone said it was going to be coming in 15 minutes, so we
decided to walk the rest of the way. The moment we started out, our bus went
barreling past, giving us an L.E.D. middle finger on its signage.
Finally, we reached the chic Bloomfield center, which
boasts a number of pawn shops, dollar stores, and a Quiznos. It wasn’t far to
the ‘Pot now.
We walked down the necessary side street, and I wondered to
myself if they’d filmed “8 Mile” here. Chain link fences, overgrown lawns, and
aluminum-sided storage facilities greeted us. We both felt a little uneasy and
marched onwards towards our orange-and-white beacon.
Once there, we browsed the paint swatches. So far so good.
We looked at ceiling fans and immediately turned away after seeing the prices.
It was while I was browsing evergreen junipers in the garden section that Tim told me, “uh, we should
probably get going before it turns dark.”
“Why?” I asked, debating between a blueish or a goldish spriggly-thing. It was only 7 in the evening and we’d just arrived after
walking 40 minutes.
“Because my phone can’t even load all of the crimes that
have happened in this area.”
I looked over at his phone. “The ‘X’s are shootings,” Tim
clarified.
Three minutes later, we checked out of Home Depot with 4
plants and 4 free paint swatches. A trip well made.
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