As predicted, the crowds at the Irvine farmers' market this weekend were thinner; New Year's resolutions that require getting up before noon on Saturday are hard to keep. Unfortunately, I didn't have my camera handy to capture the visual gag I saw as I walked into the market; two men were carrying a huge sack of oranges on a long pole, and one of them had tied an apple on one end of it. You had to be there, I guess, so you'll just have to make do with this week's list of overheard comments:
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Customer: “Nice melons, lady.”
Vendor: “Would you like to sample them?”
Anywhere else in the country, this conversation in January would not have been about honeydew.
“I just touched those leaves and they BIT me!”
The first, last and only time this woman will ever buy unfamiliar dark leafy greens; nettles attack when provoked.
“I'd wait a minute before sampling the oranges. My son just pooped in his diaper. Sorry.”
I've heard of cats needing to hide in closets before
delivering a litter of kittens, but I've never heard of toddlers
needing to hide under sample tables before delivering a load of keister
fudge.
“Let me call you back. I've got Italian men throwing food at me from both sides.”
You say that like it's a bad thing. Learn to love the Bundt cake-gelato-cookies-pasta gauntlet in the middle of the market.
“They sell regular coffee here? I thought they only sold espresso drinks. Man, I just wasted two bucks.”
The Starbucks-ification of America's coffee addiction is now complete. I weep for the future.
“A Ford Flex is not a compact car.”
It is in south Orange County…
“Do you know a recipe for dipping chocolate? I need to get laid this weekend.”
I do, in fact, but I can tell you from experience not to use it as body paint while it's hot. I'm just saying.
