Normally, I go to the St. Jacobs Market on Saturdays, but I decided to make a quick drive over on my lunch break today to pick up a couple of things. The primary reason for my trip was to go to a new Southern BBQ stand that opened recently, because I tried the pulled pork on the weekend and it was exceptionally good. In my conversation on Saturday with Jason, the owner of the place, he told me that he’s there on Thursdays and Saturdays, so I went over today. However, his stand wasn’t there, so combined with the madness of fighting for a parking spot at noon on a rainy Thursday (really?), it wasn’t off to a good start.
Then, as I’m walking through the market, it was astounding to me how nearly everyone walking in front of me found some reason to just stop suddenly. And it was so perfect, because when they stopped, it was in the most inconvenient place possible. In the middle of an aisle with no room to walk around them, or my personal favourite, halfway through a doorway, so that no one can get in or out. That happened TWICE! Seriously…how can people be so clueless about their surroundings? And if by some insane chance, they are indeed that clueless, what would make someone think that stopping halfway through a door isn’t anything but a bad idea?
So I finally get to Halenda’s, which is a booth inside where I always get these homemade spicy chicken nuggets that Lucas loves. I’m standing there waiting for my order and this crazy older woman beside me is ordering. She wants peameal bacon, which is on sale for $9.00 for 2 lbs. She barks at the Mennonite girl behind the counter, “I only have 9 dollars!”, rattling the change in her hand, “So make sure you don’t go over!” Then she adds, “Or…you can go over, but I’m only giving you 9 dollars.” So this poor girl keep taking pieces off and adding pieces to get as close as possible (without going over). She finally gets it right on, and as she’s bagging it up, the woman pulls out another Toonie ($2.00 coin for the international readers) and says, “ I want one of those Landjaeger sausages, too.” I look over to see her husband standing beside her just looking down and shaking his head. And she looks at me and pretty much laughs in my face in this disturbing, evil, witch laugh. It was a genuine cackle, as if she was saying “Ha! Look what I pulled off!”
What a circus. I’m sticking to Saturdays.