I live at the edge of Chinatown and downtown LA, so the setting for my life revolves around this little border. There isn’t much around except a neighborhood Walmart. I visit about once a week to purchase my groceries and as a result it has become part of my routine.
During my visits, I perform a ritualistic procedure upon entering the store. Each time, I grab a shopping cart and then browse the store freely from left to right, starting from the produce aisle. However, as I try to exit the store, I am stopped by my shopping cart. The wheels lock at a yellow line, which prohibits carts form moving further. My traversing is halted and I am left to ponder the implications of yet another border within my city.