June 5, 2022:
Hipster couple, to the extent San Diego generates hipsters.
"It's like a whole market!", she gushes, hiply, in pegged denim and boots. He says, "Over here babe," beckoning toward trail mix. They're on a Sunday drive, exploring the backcountry, expecting — What? Not these here country folks havin' a market o' our own, aye tellya what.
Tweaker couple, dirty, jittery, in frayed bell-bottoms. Buying beer, cigarettes, scratchers, energy drinks. Thin tweaker dude fishes pockets for cash, thinner tweaker girlfriend tells him, "Did deep honey." With effort and signs of alarm, at last he locates a twenty inside his jacket. They pay with evident relief.
The hipster couple are in the next line, swiping a credit card through the machine. They've also bought cigarettes and energy drinks — but no scratchers. In the parking lot they move to opposite directions: hipsters to the right, tweakers to the left. The hipsters have a shiny Subaru Outback with a ski rack; the tweakers are on foot.