I made the special trip to El Tomatal for peanut butter just as I was coming down with something hard. I braced myself for a brand new experience. I had now spent a total of 250 days over the course of four different years along The Oaxacan Coast, and had never become ill. When I got out of the truck in El Tomatal, I stepped in dog shit but failed to realize it. When I stubbed my flip flop on the uneven cement, that particular flip flop went flying into the uncrowded peanut butter area. When I retrieved the flip flop, that is when I noticed the dog shit. By the looks of the residue outline on the bottom of the flip flop, it appeared as if only half of the dog shit that must have originally been on my flip flop was still on my flip flop. Like it had been ‘jarred’ off during the stub. I looked for the missing half circle of flattened dog shit. What human in their right mind would ever do that? The only thing in the room was the 400 Liter peanut butter making machine. No..Don’t tell me! I had a Junior Mint moment. I was spaced. The Indian Senora sold us 2 kilos for 160 pesos. That is a lot of fucking peanut butter.
