This past weekend I went to the Farmer’s Market for what will probably be the last time this year, as Michigan tends to get cold and nasty in the blink of an eye.
Since I’m still in the “denial” stage of the temporary end of this relationship, I figured I would write a post about our courtship before I progress to the anger and mourning stages of this transition.
Actually, this post was sparked by a few things I observed and overheard the last time I went, so thank you to the douche canoes that neglected to use what I consider Farmer’s Mark-etiquette.
Most markets bring in an eclectic mix of people—everything from yuppies with their soy half-calf sugar-free oxygen enriched lattes and hippie types with their messy ponytails and fair trade sandals made of bamboo bark to families and people like me—most often clad in yoga pants with my reusable tote, ready to knock over the elderly and small children for the perfect loaf of mini pumpkin bread.
In other words, it’s a bit of a market melting pot.
There are a couple of rules that are spelled out on signs, one of them being “no dogs” in the actual market area due to the close quarters.
This doesn’t stop people from stuffing the little ones in bags and sneaking them in, a sight that continues to amuse me on an almost publically unacceptable level.
There are also rules that aren’t spelled out, perhaps assumed as common sense. However, if you’ve ever talked to another human anywhere, you know there should be no assumptions when it comes to common sense.
So if I were deemed the Market Queen for a Day—a position I anoint myself with in my head every time that I go—here are the rules I would post:
- They are samples people, this is not a buffet. Take one or two and move on.
- Dogs might not be allowed, but children are. With that said, strollers that are three-wide and plow through like a semi need to be banned. Also, it is not cute when your child who is just learning to walk is staggering down the center of a busy aisle at the pace of a turtle, causing people to run into each other, possibly smashing delicate produce and toes.
- Bring your own bags, if possible, as carrying around 12 plastic bags while touting your earth-friendly awesomeness paints a picture of confusion.
Now that, Alanis, is irony. Rain on your wedding day is just shitty luck.
May I suggest you do not say the following things:
- These carrots/radishes/etc. have dirt on them!
- Do you have change for $100 bill?
- If I buy two pounds at $2/lb, can I get a discount?
- Were these parsnips humanely killed?
- It’s cheaper at Wal-Mart.
- How come you never have fries or creamed corn?
- Do you use the good pesticides?
- How much for just one?
While breaking any of these Farmers Mark-etiquette rules is not a punishable crime, it wouldn’t be unreasonable to think that other market goers might harbor inclinations to beat you senseless with a preservative-free baguette or sharpen their aim with a fresh arsenal of golf ball-sized (dirty) radishes.
And as Market Queen for a day—at least in my own head—I can’t promise I won’t join them.
What crimes against carrots and common sense have you observed at the market ?