The smell–vaguely hospital. Like greasy vats of stew.
In the dining room, women with bright lipstick and powdered, downy faces. Necklaces that spell out, in rhinestones, Dolores. Or, sometimes, Betty. Earrings as large as poker chips.
Men with big bellies and large-framed plastic glasses. Booming voices asking how tall I am, joking that they were tall once, too.
Hollow eyes that see what is waiting a year or two out. Eyes that are accepting or afraid or some combination of the two.
Pot roast swimming in thick gravy. Hard rolls. Green Jello studded with pears.
The hum of a mini fridge in our room. Fake, dusty eucalyptus decorating the wall. Pressboard furniture. Thin strings to pull in case of emergency.
But then, red tiled roofs, bright blue swimming pools, rusty green hills rolling and peaking in the near distance. The coast not far with its huge tumbling surf, gray battleship coming into harbor. Poppies along the roadside just starting to bloom.
No having to evacuate this time. No burning embers framing a smokey highway like in 2007. No wall of flames over the hillside, coming at us. Drizzle, instead.
Escalades everywhere. The constant rush of traffic.
It's okay for a while.
But I could never live here.
Then she lit up a candle and she showed me the way. There were voices down the corridor,
I thought I heard them say...
Posted by: papergirl | February 17, 2009 at 07:29 PM
It's a nice place to visit - especially when you are describing it - but I couldn't linger either.
Posted by: Lisa Milton | February 17, 2009 at 07:53 PM
Where are you? If it's CA, let me know ...
Posted by: Vanessa McGrady | February 17, 2009 at 08:43 PM
I love roadside poppies. Escalades not so much. Enjoy your visit.
Posted by: mrs. g. | February 17, 2009 at 09:26 PM
I'd be scarfing down the green jello...
Posted by: Nora | February 17, 2009 at 10:11 PM
Sounds something like a retirement home in Atlantic city. ;-)
Posted by: Kristy | February 18, 2009 at 09:56 AM
Oh my god...are you visiting my grandmother?! That's SO nice of you!!! Ask her to tell you about the time I told her I wanted to be a maid when I grew up and she almost choked on her dinner.
Seriously. Are you visiting my grandmother? It sounds like her assisted living facility.
Posted by: Well Read Hostess | February 18, 2009 at 10:06 AM
Red tiled roofs and bright blue swimming pools sound lovely. The rest? Not so much.
I'll stick with my beloved PacNW... whenever I can get there again.
Posted by: kcinnova | February 18, 2009 at 10:13 AM
I'm guessing a cross between an S&S Cafeteria and a bingo hall on the coast of somewhere. But what do I know.
Wherever you are, I hope that you are having a good time.
Posted by: Lulu | February 19, 2009 at 02:23 PM
The place I visited did not have a bright blue pool, or poppies...other than that, it sounds exactly the same. Exactly...
And I wouldn't want to live there either, even if I didn't know where I was.
Posted by: Carrie | February 19, 2009 at 04:58 PM
Loved how you wrote this. So vivid.
Posted by: JCK | February 19, 2009 at 09:33 PM
Are you in San Diego???
Posted by: Melanie @ MelADramatic Mommy | February 20, 2009 at 12:15 AM