Ruthzilla is visiting my couch for a bit and we walked down to the the Red Apple to get dinner fixins (turkey tacos if you must know). Upon reaching the store- she realized that we were in front of The Red Apple of the Stranger police blotter fame.

Having lived and worked in this neighborhood for years, I am well aware of the soulful greatness that is played while I cruise the aisles. Mephistopheles has noticed the music too and (except for the wine selection) really likes how much cooler the people and the music in my ghetto grocery store are than the up-tight, rude, wealthy, pasty types at his Magnolia Thriftway. (FYI- Thriftway is the exact wrong name for the place- a better name would be Overpriced Pretention Shop).

It is not unusual for the Kid, the Devil, or me to be humming (sometimes outright singing) to Respect Yourself or I’ll Be There while trying to figure out what the heck to have for dinner. If anything by James Brown or Curtis Mayfield comes on – I may shake my ass a little. It’s impossible not to.

The only problem is Sunday evenings (when the neighborhood gentrifiers come out to shop) the music changes to some crappy 80’s schlock. Hopefully this is just a fluke and that I will always be able to get my soul fix in the same place that I get the cheapest avacados on the west coast.

UPDATE: According to the Devil, the Red Apple was playing soul yesterday instead of the 80’s crap. Maybe the Stranger piece helped end that little bit of hell.