Farmers Market

I did a bad thing. I went to the Farmers Market, which was not the bad thing, and there was one loaf of cinnamon raisin bread at the baker's table. There was also a woman kind of ditzing around and asking questions. Taking time. I don't recreationally shop at the Farmers Market. I know what I want. She bought a loaf of bread, I don't know what kind, then asked to taste the cinnamon raisin. As I said, there was one loaf visible. I asked the vendor if there was more cinnamon raisin bread. She thought so, but wasn't certain. So I reached in front of the lady and took the possibly last loaf. The lady left. I assume she was shocked and angry. Being a Minnesotan, she could not say, "I beg your pardon. I was planning to buy that loaf." There are times when my impatience -- or maybe my years in New York -- pays off.

Next time I will be a proper MInnesotan and wait and grit my teeth while the other person dithers. I was late to the Market, and it was full of people drifting from side to side, stopping in mid-aisle to think, discussing possible purchases, helping frail elderly relatives, reining in their small kids... Helping frail elderly relatives and kids is fine, but I really dislike the drifting and stopping and dithering. Aside from the bread, I got tomatoes, small red potatoes, green leaf lettace, scallions, a goat cheese, and flowers.