I get all my meat from the King of Death

Its in brief moments that Sacramento flips whatever switch that it holds secret and becomes surreal. Take, for example, the meat counter in the Natural Foods Co-op.

Behind its gleaming surfaces, the meat counter holds some really well maintained cuts of fish, lobsters, crabs, and handmade sausages from organically raised poultry. Off to the left are the pre-packaged items, like range raised buffalo and organically certified beef cuts. Not only are the meats attractively presented, but they also are priced as if each piece had a bit of personal history to add to you dinner setting. Well, regardless of the pricing, the meat tastes fantastic.

Now, I would expect nothing but the most intense level of scrutiny to be applied to the choosing and handling of the flesh that died for my dinner. In this respect, my expectations have been exceeded by Co-op management. The store has hired none other but the Buddhist Death God, Yama! This master of final scrutiny is represented in this world by the unassuming form of a slight and smiling older gentleman, but behind that placid and graceful exterior is a skilled purveyor of the quality of one's ending. I still remember the smile that lit my face when I first met him, his name badge flashing in the bright counter lights, as he turned to receive my order.

Which is why I love this city. There are not many other places where I can get laid by a Santeria love goddess, get my flowers from a goddess of Spring, and get my meat from a god of death. Now, I just need to find that bar run by Hathor, and I'll be right as rain.