Not crying over spilled milk
Today I dropped a bottle of milk. This wouldn't have been a big deal, except that it was a glass bottle, and actually it was two bottles. I had just purchased them from the Mapleline Farm booth at the Farmer's Market in town, and I went to another booth to buy some collards and kale and such, and the bag that they were in slipped off my shoulder and they shattered all over the ground. Chocolate and regular. Half gallon of each.
I was pissed- I had just paid $9 for what was essentially one gallon of milk, and there it was, all over the pavement. I reached down to pick up the shards and be helpful, and cut my finger, so then there was all this blood in the milk on the ground, and that was also gross, and then the people working at that booth told me not to worry about it and got out a hose and washed everything away. And they gave me a band aid.
The point of this story, is that Mapleline is awesome. Because as I was trying to recompose myself and gain my dignity back, a woman wearing a matching blue dress and hat came over and said "Excuse me, my husband runs the Mapleline booth, if you run over there right now he says he'll give you your order again for free."
Sure enough, when I went back, the old guy in the plaid shirt and the Newastle Brown Ale hat not only remembered what I had ordered twenty minutes prior, but gave it to me for free. He didn't seem to feel either really sorry for me or like I was a total dolt, which is great because I was kind of feeling both of those things, "See you next week!" he said as I hurried out of there before anyone recognized me.
Sometimes, I really, really love this place.
I was pissed- I had just paid $9 for what was essentially one gallon of milk, and there it was, all over the pavement. I reached down to pick up the shards and be helpful, and cut my finger, so then there was all this blood in the milk on the ground, and that was also gross, and then the people working at that booth told me not to worry about it and got out a hose and washed everything away. And they gave me a band aid.
The point of this story, is that Mapleline is awesome. Because as I was trying to recompose myself and gain my dignity back, a woman wearing a matching blue dress and hat came over and said "Excuse me, my husband runs the Mapleline booth, if you run over there right now he says he'll give you your order again for free."
Sure enough, when I went back, the old guy in the plaid shirt and the Newastle Brown Ale hat not only remembered what I had ordered twenty minutes prior, but gave it to me for free. He didn't seem to feel either really sorry for me or like I was a total dolt, which is great because I was kind of feeling both of those things, "See you next week!" he said as I hurried out of there before anyone recognized me.
Sometimes, I really, really love this place.