Creedence and Rite Aid

These guys all work at Rite Aid now.

On my lengthy list of things I hate about SC, the ridiculous cost of living ranks near the top (I may have mentioned this a few hundred times already.) It was with great joy that I discovered, after an embarrassingly long time living here, that Rite Aid is the only place in town that sells drug store stuff at a reasonable price (as opposed to the execrable CVS.) I was so happy with this discovery that I didn't even fuss about getting another stupid in-store card to further clog up my wallet.

What I love about Rite Aid isn't limited to the prices, however. I love its cavernous ceilings, its crappy, never-been-refurbished ambiance, its weird old employees. It reminds me of my favorite bizarre hardware store in Oregon, Bi-Mart, and of the generalized run-down funkiness of the Oregon Coast. It's like an oasis from the development-driven horseshit that has proven to be the ruin of California, an improbable pocket of sanity in a completely crazy town.

And then there's Creedence. Everyone likes Creedence. Everyone. If you hear "Run Through the Jungle" or "Fortunate Son," you love it. I have this mp3 mix I listen to while I'm out running errands, which is mostly stoner rock and punk and what not (Clutch, Black Label Society, The Briefs, etc.), but I put a few Creedence songs on there just to spice things up. So far, three times in a row, the stars have aligned as I pull into the Rite Aid parking lot and a Creedence song happens to come up on the shuffle. It's one of those lovely moments of serendipity, freedom rock at a run-down drug store, that temporarily mutes my misanthropy.

1 comment:

another kind of nerd said...

yay! for stars aligning! I mean, really, you ask so little of life.