When I lived in the student slums, I used to shop at what local 'San Martians' call, "the little HEB!"

The little HEB is filled with a non-stop stream of hill country ranch owners and their families, local San Marcos senior citizens, loud talking, beer swilling, tube renting out of towners in wet swim suits... and wall to wall, tattooed, scantily clad, usually intoxicated, college coeds... all intent on getting in... getting what they need... and getting out.

Parking is limited... the store itself is cramped... the isles are narrow and stacked to the ceiling tiles. The "little HEB" doesn't have the fancy meat or seafood cases... nor the handmade sushi kiosk like the "big HEB." But I did have an area manager for HEB once tell me that "the little HEB" in San Marcos sells more beer than any other HEB in Texas. The only other grocery store that could possibly even begin to compare would be the A&P Market on the corner of Bourbon and St. Peter's in New Orleans. But they have everything I need and plenty of interesting things to look at.

Like really cool cracks forming in the entry apron of the parking lot...

The little HEB in San Marcos kinda lends a whole new meaning to the growing epidemic "crack" problem in america.