Sometimes when life was normal, Saturday would be the day for rolling chores. Two decades ago in New Mexico, the chief among these would be the laundromat. But there were other things–gassing the van, sometimes even washing the van, various kinds of shopping and stuff.

Often, by late on Saturday afternoon, I’d be ravenous.

The best thing to do about that was to hit the only all-you-could-eat place that didn’t suck.

It was called Sweet Tomatoes, and the main attraction was a salad bar about 50 feet long, with most everything you could want in a salad bar, like tomatoes, and even everything you could never want, like bacon bits.

But it didn’t stop there.

Around the corner there were soups and little pizza-type breads and baked potatoes and three rotating kinds of pasta. Ice cream for dessert. Frickin’ amazing really, and all for a price at the time that was closer to five bucks than to ten. All self-served.

Dirt cheap. Pretty damn healthy mostly. At the end I always felt overstuffed, but it was never a bad feeling either. There was no other place like it.

After I left NM I probably didn’t go back to an ST for … fifteen years? There just weren’t stores convenient. I think there were less than a hundred total anyway, and a lot of them were in Cali.

But on this southern sojourn there were a couple.

The lady and I found that it was the one place we could always agree on. Normally she’s been more of a steakhouse type, and I favor Mexican, Italian, breakfast, some fancy sandwiches and things. But Sweet Tomatoes was an experience we could both get into for real.

She sent me a notice yesterday that they’re shutting down completely, because of the Rona, of course.

There’s nothing to replace them. The closest thing is the deli part of Whole Foods, but I don’t go in there much since the Beezus took that over.

The whole model just doesn’t fit, in a pandemic world.

Overall, the virus so far has had a net positive effect on my life, especially since I haven’t caught it. Yet.

But as the lockdown begins to lift, the negatives are creeping back. The idiot traffic in the Black Canyon most markedly, and elsewhere. Work from home fading away, for me, for now.

And Sweet Tomatoes is gone. It won’t be the last casualty of course, and that’s not even talking about the people, just the amenities.

Anyway, RIP, Tomato. I for one am sad to see you fly. It’s a little bit of practice grieving. I’ll try to learn.