Flee Market
Aunt Tudi and I had to go to the flea market today. It was again a lot like what I wrote about lo those many years ago. There was a local Country music singer a couple of tables down from us who insisted on playing his two marginal hits, one after the other, the entire time we were there. We were stuck at the Barnyard, the name of the flea market, from a little before 8 am until a tad before 1 pm. I felt like Ace Ventura in When Nature Calls: "Three darts is too much!" But it was more than three, these musical darts, these sonic weapons of mass destruction. I can still hear the choruses in my head and am compelled to beat my head on concrete to get them out. Hideous. Meester Country Man was to the left of his. Directly to the right was a fruit and vegetable vendor. He placed his ass-melons* directly beside me. Before we left, Aunt Tudi bought a couple of arse-melons and stunk up my car with them. I'll be gagging all the way to work tomorrow, if not horking enthusiastically. Blechhhh!
One great thing is the most unexpected find ever here in Right Wing Central: A Pentagram tote bag! Actually, there were about a dozen Pentagram tote bags, all of them different colours mixed with black. And they were for cheap, just $6.50. That's a almost a gallon and a half of gas! Whoa! I bought the red and black one, because I'm a Sith Witch and all. I took a picture of it being held by Aunt Tudi and shall include it with all the flea market pics I took. Enjoy, dammit! I sure didn't, so somebody has to!
One of the vendors trying to keep the sun off him. Even on a cloudy day, the South Carolina sun can burn through you like match flame on paper. Instead of spontaneously combusting, this fella decided to look ridiculous instead.
The Greenhouse Lady. She was directly across from us and we got to talking. In addition to running a greenhouse by her lonesome, she's also a high school history and French teacher at Dorman High School, and had been for 40 years. She asked me what school I went to and, before I realised she meant what high school, I was telling her about Greenville Tech and my imminent transfer to Spartanburg Community College. When she showed confusion on her face, I asked her if she meant what high school I attended. She said yes and, when I told her I was 40 years old, she totally flipped out. When Aunt Tudi told her she was 64, Greenhouse Lady was completely flabbergasted. The Evans Vampire gene strikes again ~~ and wins!
A portion of our table with the Greenhouse Lady in the background.
Our row to the left and to the right. Not much difference.
Aunt Tudi about three hours into our pleasant stay at Le Market du Fleas.
Me pretty much at the same time. Don't I look thrilled?
The ass-melons that horrified me the entire time I was stuck at the flea market.
My Pentagram tote bag. Ain't she purdy?
Now that I've made everyone who reads my journal as miserable as me, I believe I have achieved my goal for the day. All in a day's work, for a Sith, that is. Heheheheheheh.
* Tin's term for the ferocious cantaloupe, which smells and tastes exactly like unwashed arse. Those who disagree may kiss Tin's arse. That is all.
One great thing is the most unexpected find ever here in Right Wing Central: A Pentagram tote bag! Actually, there were about a dozen Pentagram tote bags, all of them different colours mixed with black. And they were for cheap, just $6.50. That's a almost a gallon and a half of gas! Whoa! I bought the red and black one, because I'm a Sith Witch and all. I took a picture of it being held by Aunt Tudi and shall include it with all the flea market pics I took. Enjoy, dammit! I sure didn't, so somebody has to!
One of the vendors trying to keep the sun off him. Even on a cloudy day, the South Carolina sun can burn through you like match flame on paper. Instead of spontaneously combusting, this fella decided to look ridiculous instead.
The Greenhouse Lady. She was directly across from us and we got to talking. In addition to running a greenhouse by her lonesome, she's also a high school history and French teacher at Dorman High School, and had been for 40 years. She asked me what school I went to and, before I realised she meant what high school, I was telling her about Greenville Tech and my imminent transfer to Spartanburg Community College. When she showed confusion on her face, I asked her if she meant what high school I attended. She said yes and, when I told her I was 40 years old, she totally flipped out. When Aunt Tudi told her she was 64, Greenhouse Lady was completely flabbergasted. The Evans Vampire gene strikes again ~~ and wins!
A portion of our table with the Greenhouse Lady in the background.
Our row to the left and to the right. Not much difference.
Aunt Tudi about three hours into our pleasant stay at Le Market du Fleas.
Me pretty much at the same time. Don't I look thrilled?
The ass-melons that horrified me the entire time I was stuck at the flea market.
My Pentagram tote bag. Ain't she purdy?
Now that I've made everyone who reads my journal as miserable as me, I believe I have achieved my goal for the day. All in a day's work, for a Sith, that is. Heheheheheheh.
* Tin's term for the ferocious cantaloupe, which smells and tastes exactly like unwashed arse. Those who disagree may kiss Tin's arse. That is all.