Lindenhurst, New York
I miss the lobsters. Yes, I'm a Long Islander and I miss the lobsters. Cliché... perhaps. No, not the ones at Seaside (my dad got kicked out the time he got them for me on account he got into an argument about a lack of chicken fingers for my little brother who at the time, ate nothing but chicken fingers) and not the one that was a toy villain opposite of the Street Sharks. It's the lobsters in the seafood section of King Kullen. The only real supermarket I ever really knew growing up because I always thought A & P was always a fictional place within a John Updike story.
The eerie blue tubs of water. I miss that too. The tagged lobsters awaited their certain doom, and my face is glued to the glass. It was my own little aquarium of sorts. Going to the supermarket had the added experience of actually going. I always hated going there with my mom. I constantly underdressed, and would freeze once we got inside. But those lobsters got me every time. I would try to remember if I saw one the previous week, constantly tug on my mom's purse to see if she could remember, but to no avail. I never gave them names and perhaps that was for the best. And that eerie blue water they would try to hide in, I miss that too. The King Kullen by my house is gone now, out of business. Not the first place to leave, and certainly not the last.
It's replaced by a L.A. Fitness gym. Go figure.