She said Walking slowly, surrounded by towering shelves, and free samples everywhere, we made our way towards the back of the store. The temptation to climb the shelves was tempting, but easily resistible. This is where the fresh foods were made, thus, a strong savory scent wafted in my direction. This was the smell of 40 rotisserie chickens cooking in an industrial sized machine for cooking the chickens they use in the foods they freshly package daily. As we passed the liquor section, we saw large glass cases with different kinds of fish lying in piles of ice.
When she was at the shop, a man walks in wearing a “stained blanket pulled up to his chin” who smells of “stale cigarettes and urine” (7). This graphic description of the man instills a feeling of disgust in the audience. He stands there until a “moody French woman” walks towards him and handing him “steaming coffee in a Styrofoam cup, and a small paper bag” of what is perhaps a croissant. He accepts the food and leaves the bread shop. Just like she did in the preceding anecdotal narrative she question why the woman demonstrated this act of compassion.
Every dessert was catching my eye, I specifically could not wait until I was devouring a mint chocolate chip sundae. While we were lingering for the check, Sierra’s grandparents were reminiscing about when they used to go on date nights to Fentons every weekend. Immediately, I was able to grasp the nature of important Fentons was to her family. I felt incredibly sentimental. At the same time, I noticed myself looking around Fentons and wondering about all of the dates that have took place in those booths.
That is when he came in, even though her back was to the door she heard the bell and the the hush that fell over the diner in anticipation as to what would happen between the two of them. He walked up to the counter and sat on a stool oblivious to the fact that everyone had their eyes on him. Jeannette finished taking the order of the couple she was serving and went behind the counter to put it on the order wheel taking her sweet old time. As she was walking towards Chris she could practically feel the stares of everyone in the place. “Stupid, tiny town,” she grumbled under her breath.
“So what is on your mind, Mr.Capone?” I questioned. Letting the question hang heavy in the air I see now up close the scar on his face. “I was just wondering why you would want to help at a soup kitchen, after all I hadn’t even met you until you showed up two weeks ago?” His voice having a challenging tone.
As the story begins we meet the protagonist, Sammy. Sammy, almost 19 years old, works as a cashier in the grocery chain A&P and possess a pair of keenly observation eyes. Induced by his young and rebellious mindset Sammy finds many faults with the world around him. He sees the world around him in a very bland light, from the women in the community being “women with six children and varicose veins” (Lawn 350) to the entire store being “like a pinball machine” (Lawn 351). But Sammy observations don’t stop at the social level, also describing the blandness of the store’s floor as a “checkboard green-and-cream rubber tile floor” (Lawn 350).
It was an autumn morning- the crisp September breeze was rattling the newly bare tree limbs, leaves of crimson red, orange and golden tones covered the ground like a soft blanket, and the smell of freshly bailed hay roamed the little parking lot full of vendors. As I got out of my car to walk under the festive tents a lady who seemed quite important and knowledgeable about the Bridgeport Farmers Market walked by ringing a bell. People started traveling through the tents discussing with vendors and other shoppers about an array of things; like the weather or ‘this eggplant color is so rich’ or ‘the healing power of the cookbook.’ Quickly, the small little shopping center that was filled with vibrant colored fruits, vegetables, and flowers became extremely loud. Conversations and chatter were surrounding me as I began to enter the tiny outdoor supermarket.
Mom was at the store and I was glad to see her. She and Harvey, our hired helper, was the extent of the work force. Saturday was Harvey’s day off but it wouldn’t take long before Hammond his little brother (and my buddy), would come in to see what I was doing. Mom usually let me have some time to go exploring, so when she wasn’t looking I’d sneak a couple Rum Crook cigars from behind the counter and grab a few candy bars – and I was out of there.
Bui grows through his relationship with Galilee and through learning English. Bui’s improvement in speaking English also reflects the “opening soon” message of the sign: “And when the dog limped inside her new home and curled herself at the door, Bui wound up his recitation, his voice confident and strong” (170). Bui also grows as a character by accepting that his wife is pregnant by another man. Finally, the renewed vitality of the café also reflects how the café is again “opening soon”: “The Honk was seldom empty and sometimes so crowded at noon, customers had to wait for tables” (203). Overall, the “opening soon” part of the Honk and Holler café is a literal mistake; however, Caney’s gaffe figuratively symbolizes the beginning of character growth, relationship, and the café’s “reopening” in the
As I walk through front door, numerous shoulder mounts of trophy animals line the walls along with an occasional fish mount. My taste buds water as the delightful smell of freshly smoked sausage fills my nose. The “cha-ching” of the cash register is a sign business is booming. In the back of the store, the bandsaw is screaming, and the grinder is crunching. My Grandpa, Clarence Psyck Jr., bought the business in 1969 from his father, Clarence Psyck Sr., so I was born into the business.
"You are kidding! " The girl said angrily, studying him with a long gaze. "I don’t." He answered. "I can show you my mini rewards that I always carry with me."
•The skin of her hand felt warm as breath against his cracked, gray-callused palm. He readily lifted her to her feet, holding onto her hand for a moment longer than he should have, as if concerned that the wayward wind might simply gust her away straight into the air, small and winged as she was. She seemed flustered by his quick recognition, the strong retention of his memory, more so than she should have been. Most of the townsfolk had at least a peripheral idea of who she was. Given that Ponyville wasn 't an overlarge town, the slightest breath of information about her would have been relayed from one end to the other, factory-line fast and easily intercepted, or at least that 's what Able had led him to believe.
A memorable and heavenly man aroma filled the air. The smell of cherry, wintergreen, apple, and butternut flavoured pipe and tobacco smoke mixed with the scent of hair tonics, pomades, oils, and neck powders. These aromas became ingrained in the wood and every cranny of the shop. The moment a man stepped inside, he was enveloped in the warm and welcoming familiarity. He was immediately able to relax, and as soon as the hot lather hit his face, his cares would simply melt away.”
Winter was just around the corner. It was my first time in the biggest coffee shop in town. I could see the cheerful and brilliant lighting of the shop as I walked across the vast parking lot. There were tables outside the shop each with a brown vintage style umbrella. This particular coffee shop is not a cafe, it’s a coffee shop literally.