El Tepetate Market

About this location

A few stories people tell about this place

1. At dawn, when most supermarkets are quiet, a delivery driver noticed something strange. The shelves of El Tepetate Market seemed to rearrange themselves overnight, as if an invisible hand had restocked everything just right. Curious, the driver mentioned it to a nearby neighbor who shrugged and said, ‘Oh, that’s nothing new. Every morning around here, someone helps out at El Tepetate.’ And indeed, every day after that, the market remained perfectly stocked—until one morning when everyone realized they’d forgotten to leave a tip for the mysterious helper.

2. At nightfall, an employee locking up El Tepetate Market heard a voice over the store’s PA system: ‘Don’t forget to check your pockets before leaving!’ Curious, he checked his own pockets—nothing was missing. The next day, everyone in town started doing the same thing as they left the market. Months later, nobody could remember who originally spoke, but El Tepetate Market became known for its friendly ghost announcer.

3. In the early morning, before the sun fully rose, a delivery driver pulled into the parking lot of El Tepetate Market. As he unloaded crates from his truck, he noticed something odd in one of the empty shopping carts—an old, dusty jar labeled ‘Lucky Chili Powder.’ As he opened it, a pungent scent filled the air—a mix of chilies and ancient spices. Curious, he sprinkled some onto a tortilla chip. Suddenly, everyone around him started dancing to imaginary music, laughing and having a great time. Turned out, the Lucky Chili Powder was more effective than any party drug! The delivery driver became known as 'Chili Charlie,' bringing joy wherever he went with just a pinch.

4. In the early morning, before the sun fully rose, a delivery driver pulled into El Tepetate Market and noticed something peculiar. A familiar face, hunched over in the shadows near the produce section, whispered softly: 'The tomatoes today… they’re singing.' Curious, the delivery driver approached closer, but just as he did, the tomatoes stopped their humming. The figure straightened up, revealing an old man with twinkling eyes—a regular who always bought his favorite variety. ‘Ah,’ he said, smiling, ‘they only sing when I’m here.’ The delivery driver shook his head, laughing gently. ‘Next time bring your own orchestra, senor!’