[151] Screed City

[151]

06/11/2022 Saturday. Kitchen Microwave. Beaver Haus. Lower Granville, Vermont.

Farmers Market Week Five:

Helluva day. Sold out before noon:

Veggie Bubbys: 10a

Breakfast Bubbys: 11:07a

Cubby Bubbys: 11:30a

I mean, Vermont-style Tamales did not show up. So, sadly my numbers don't reflect the truth of the day. I mean, there was one guy that came to the booth at around 11:30, I know this because he bought the last two Cubby Bubbys, he said:

"Okay, what are you selling?" He was very confused. Early twenties kind of dude. A dude's dude. He was very hungry. He kept looking at the sandwich board, then the menu, then the display. The sandwich board and the menu both said that Breakfast Bubbys and Veggie Bubbys were sold out. I was holding the lid off of the display so he could look. Then he would look. Then he would read the sign, then he would look at the display again, then the menu. He said:

"Okay, I will take three Breakfast things and two Veggie things." I had to remind him that they were sold out, and sorry. He then would read the menu and look at the sign then look at the display. Then he said:

"You don't have Breakfast things or Veggie things? Just the Ground Beef things?" I said:

"Yeah." He said:

"Okay, I will take some Breakfast ones and some Veggie ones." I said, quite bemused at this point:

"We only have ground beef." Then he would get confused again. But this time he got it through his thick skull:

"Where is the tamale lady? I usually get her stuff. It's good stuff." I said:

"Yeah, I don't know. She didn't show up, had I known I would have brought more stuff." Then he didn't get it through his thick skull again. He looked at the sign and the sandwich board and the display. He said:

"You only got ground beef?" I was kind of exasperated at this point. He kind of reminded me of G's brother in law, J. Who one year at Thanksgiving the mashed potatoes weren't coming out fast enough. He kept asking where they were. Nobody would answer him. Keep in mind the kid was 17 at the time. He got so worked up about it, he stood up and started pacing back and forth next to the table. Wondering where the mashed potatoes were. I mean, it was kind of intense, but also hilarious. But this knuckle head finally made up his mind, kind of, he said:

"Okay. I really with the tamale lady was here. I usually eat her stuff. Okay, I will take two Ground Beef things. No, make that three." I said:

"Sorry, I only have two left." He said:

"Ah, man! Okay, I will take them then." He took them. Paid. Walked away. I saw him walking by two minutes later. They were gone. He had eaten them. He was with his girlfriend. Looking for more food. I mean, it was kind of cute, I guess, I felt bad for him a little, to be that hungry and not have any food to eat. But geeze, what a wild ride.

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I mean, the day was very nice. I woke up to low mist throughout the valley. I did the usual. Got ready with ease. The checklist is a game changer. Also, yesterday before I started writing, I cleaned the kitchen real good and got everything ready for this morning. Which helped. Very much. I mean, it helped so much that I stayed up later than usual and managed to kind of mess my day up with a groggy disposition, but I survived. I left at 7:02a. Driving into the mist. Looking forward to a creepy drive through the canyon. Instead the clouds cleared and I was blinded a hundred times going around the curves. Which was not relaxing or spooky at all. Just annoying. When I got to the parking lot of the yoga studio I was able to park in the best spot. Nobody was around. I wasn't early, there just was fewer Boothers today for some reason. I unloaded. Got the fires burning. Parked the car. Came back. Set up. There was no racist Fishmonger giving me grief. The Putin of Gluten came around eventually. He had gotten a haircut. I said:

"You got a haircut, looking sharp!" He said:

"Oh, did I? I guess I did. My mom has been in town all week, so I thought I would take advantage of that. I had her cut all the strandlers. I mean, even after trimming my beard and getting the haircut, knocking a few years off of my looks, my friend still said, 'You're mom looks like she could be your sister.' Can you believe that? I don't look that old, do I?" I didn't say anything. Not because he was looking old, he wasn't, I just didn't answer him. I mean, later I met his mom, and she was very youthful looking. She kind of did look like she could be his sister. I didn't tell him that though. She was nice. His mom. a little bit of a woman on the prowl was my impression, but what do I know. I think everyone is a pervert these days. Myself included.

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I mean, I sold like hot cakes as the bridesmaids say. The Veggie Bubbys were a hot ticket item as the bridesmaids say. I think next week I will bring 7 of those instead of 5. That is a lesson I learned from last year. You don't double your inventory, that is asking for trouble, you just add about 1/4 more. That way you don't end up with too much spoilage if you mis-read the thing. But people have been showing more interest in the Veggie Bubby. That and the Gluten Free one that is still in the making. I mean, I brought the Putin of Gluten some filling to take home to practice with. I hope he brings me a recipe next weekend. Although, I don't know how much time I will have to experiment with it, so it may be moot, but I will see what I can do. I mean, if I bring two of those every week I think they will sell. And then I will just add one more until they stop selling out. I mean, what else can I do? I mean, the Putin of Gluten also gave me a psychedelic mushroom last week that I have been chewing on, so if this gets weird you will know that reason why. So far, I don't know what that unicorn was saying, but I never asked in the first place, Andrew! Take the dog out for christ's sake! I can't stand him staring at me!

Whoa, that wasn't a dog, it was the toaster oven on the floor, I thought the cord was his tail! I don't know where Andrew went, though.

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There was no naked vaginas today. Nothing even close. I mean, a few hard nips where asunder, and had I been positioned at a different booth, I mean, this world we live in, I tell you what. The outfits that men wear versus what women wear. And how Society works. I really don't know how women do it. It blows my mind. Backwards and in heels. I mean, really. Huge respect. But also, just fyi, there are some things women shouldn't do while wearing skirts. And one of those things is a lot of manual labor and squatting and bending over. That might be alright for you and me, Fritz, but I don't think the public will understand.

[Insert Contempt Clip]

This is long, I don't expect you to watch it, but if you do it will pay dividends as the bridesmaids say.

I mean, the weather was nice. People kept saying it was slow, but like I said, I sold out well before noon. And the Putin of Gluten was really raking it in. The CBD Oil Upskirter didn't do too bad either. She has an assistant now. Have I already said this? It is a wild situation. I mean, in kind of a heartbreaking way. I THINK, I mean, I haven't figured it out just yet, but I think that the CBD Oil Upskirter is married to the dad of her assistant. And this is supposed to become a job for her. The kid. Who seems, seems like she is in her early twenties, but at the same time she gets a ride to the Farmers Market. Which makes me think that she is in her teens, and this is a Summer job, I guess, but if the guy that drops her off is her dad? I don't even know. I feel like her mom is in some home because she is either dying or is disabled? And she is getting into this NewAge stuff because of her step mom? The CBD Oil Upskirter? I mean, they talk about "Spirituality" a lot. And there is a lot of kismet things that define their stories. Like a set of missing keys that showed up, but before they showed up, the kid got a ride from somebody that was her friend from high schools mom, but it wasn't her mom, it was the friend herself and wasn't that wild that the lost keys led to them reconnecting? I mean, it is, a little. That sort of stuff is pretty cool. But it isn't INSANE that it happened. I mean, it seems like that if she, the Kid, is asking her friends mom for a ride, they are connected in a pretty pragmatic way, right? She would run into her eventually, right? At some point, right? It's not like she found a note in a bottle while walking down the beach in California and it turned out that he friend had thrown the bottle into the ocean in say, Scotland or something a couple years ago, and it was she that found it. I mean, I don't know how the hell that would happen, it doesn't make sense at all with how oceans work or whatever, my point is, THAT would be kismet. Running into a high school friend a year out of high school because you asked her mom for a ride because you lost your car keys is not very mystical, if you ask me. But what the hell do I know? I can't even find Andrew. And that fucking dog keeps staring at me! Go! Get out! Go on! Get!

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There was a moment today when a little boy came to the booth. With is dad. The kid was cute enough. I mean, I kind of found him annoying from the get go. He was one of those kids that just goes around destroying things and the parent doesn't stop them because they think that everyone finds them as charming as they do. I mean, this may be more of a, I find the parent annoying and therefore the kid becomes annoying kind of thing, but they are connected. The kid never learns to not be annoying because the parent doesn't understand that the kid is annoying. If you know what I mean. But the kid spent a while nearly knocking over the Putin of Gluten's expensive artisanal cutting boards. The dad didn't stop him. Then he came to my booth. I was flapping the FOOD sign in the breeze. I said:

"You know how it works?" The kid, who was at most five years old. Took a look. Was very confused. Then he understood that there was a line that went down and under the table. But that is as far as he got. And instead of just letting it go, he grabbed the spring and just started going to town. The sign flailing back and forth, back and forth. I mean, I was waiting for the dad to say something, like:

"Hey! Stop that! You can't just flap a dude's sign in the breeze like an asshole! You have to ask first!" But the dad said nothing. I mean, I really thought the kid was going to take my whole booth down, he was flanging the sign so much. I had to put an end to it. The kid got upset, but not super upset. And at this point, the dad, who should have read the social cues, I mean, he should have felt bad and bought a Cubby Bubby, or at least say sorry to me, he just stood there looking. He didn't even grab the kid. He eventually said:

"Okay, let's go. See ya." I mean, I don't know if he went next door and knocked all the CBD Oils down or what, I mean, I think the Upskirter would have yelled at him. She seems like that kind of person. I mean, real cool on the outside, but fuming on the inside. Although, I say that, and I don't know if I mean it. I mean, she came back from parking her car smelling like a teenager who just did about ten bong rips. I mean, at the beginning of the day. I think she may just be a stoner. But still, it took me a while to recover from the abuse. It was touch and go there for a second. Andrew! Where you at? This dog is driving me nuts!

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I have been reading this book about Granville, called Beyond Yonder [Italics.] I mean, Scott gave it to me to read. It was written by an employee of the Vermont Castings Company that his dad used to run. I mean, it is very fascinating. It kind of sums up what it means to move to Vermont. From the outside. How everything you think it is going to be is absolutely wrong. That it kind of sucks up here, but is also very charming, in the, Oh my god, this is both awful and beautiful at the same time, I don't know what to do about it, kind of way. But it is giving me questions. About Society around here and what the recent past is. And this ties to the Farmers Market because, I mean, I think it was the first market when I the Upskirter’s booth was occupied by the Dog Collar Lady whose husband has a radio show on 94.5 WMRV, the place I want to do Screed City Radio, which, is kind of in process, I mean, I digress, so I won't go there, but she was telling me that she lives in Granville proper. On Post Office Hill road. Where, as far as I can tell, is where this Beyond Yonder [Italics] takes place. I mean, the guy calls it Upper Granville, which isn't a thing. Upper Village of Granville is a thing, but as much as there is a Lower Granville, and an East Granville, which, nobody actually knows where that is, I mean, it is across the mountain, like over by Roxbury or something, I mean, 20 miles drive or something, but is part of Granville proper, in the sense that they come to the Town Meetings and have a say about local Government and tax and school stuff. I mean, sorry for the history lesson. Andrew! Get this damn dog out of here!

I mean, the Dog Leash Lady was walking by my booth before the market opened. I called her over. She was not wearing a bra. Her nips were as hard as diamonds. I tried not to notice. She walked over and said:

"Hi Roy." I mean, this was cute. My name is Joey. She somehow managed to remember my name as Roy. I don't think I look like a Roy, but maybe I do. The only Roy I know is the guy from Professor Curly's favorite show that she watches to decompress. I mean, I am a little like that Roy for sure. Beer swilling, meathead, who doesn't know how good he has it until it is too late. Working class meathead with a heart of sometimes gold, but mostly just a lug that spends his life full of regrets because of his emotions. I mean, I said:

"Hey, so you live on Post Office Hill, right? You have lived there for long?" She said:

"Oh, yeah, we have been living there for thirty years. Why do you ask?" I said:

"Do you know this book, Beyond Yonder [Italics]? I think it takes place on that road. I mean, the guy calls it Upper Granville." She smiled, her nips as sharp as gravel. She said:

"That's were we live!" She was quite proud. She continued "I don't know that book, there is this other book that is based loosely, I mean, very loosely on the history of Granville." I said:

"On Yonder Hill [Italics]?" She thought about it. She said:

"Yeah, maybe. What is the book again? Who is the author?" I said:

"I don't know, I mean, the book is called Beyond Yonder [Italics] it is a response to On Yonder Hill [Italics,] the author calls himself Darwin Hunter, there is a character called the Stowe Stallion, I guess, BJ, something, BJ Boscoe." She thought about it. She said:

"Nah, I don't know it. I'll check it out though." And that was that. She said "Have a good market" and went back to her dog collar booth. Oh! She did mention that her mom was born in Granville and she would ask her. I really doubt she was going to ask her mom about it though. And not only that, but she did not answer my questions. I mean, maybe this is what being a journalist is. Or not. Because I failed, but maybe an effective journalist's job is just getting people to stay focused on the questions they are asking. I mean, I did learn she moved there in 1989. And her mom was born in Granville. And things have changed a lot since she had moved there. But so what? I mean, this book is crazy. They have running races for six years. Coke parties. House parties where people from all over town show up. Even the locals. Yearly fairs. I mean, drama. Societal drama. But the way the Granville is now, you would never ever guess it. I mean, it is just a general store and an old folks home now. With a place to drop you recycling off. And a wifi hot spot, which I just learned about two days ago when I was on a fact finding mission. The old school house has been declared a landmark and as such you can get wifi there. They even have a sign. A placard. Real official-like.

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I don't know. I am more curious than ever now. I mean, she couldn't give two shits, but I do. I kind of want to write the next book in the series: Yonder Inertia [Italics.] I mean, working title, because that sucks, but still, things change really fast around here. In a good way. I mean, Vermont is proof that places like this won't be Conservative hellholes forever. All you need is enough forward thinking assholes with enough money to come into a community and gum up the works and in maybe ten, fifteen years, you get a Bernie Sanders out of the deal. I mean, local politics at their finest. Of course it can easily swing the other direction, consider Wyoming for the antithesis, but still, we are not entirely screwed. If you want to stay positive about things. Andrew! You asshole! This fucking dog of yours!

I mean, after 11:30a I had nothing to do. I had written Sold Out on every surface. I turned the FOOD sign around so nobody was lured over. I ignored people that came around until they figured it out. I mean, I could have sold probably twice my inventory. Which would have been great. $480 doll hairs as the bridesmaids say. But I didn't have it. I sold exactly $240 dollars worth of stuff and shut down shop. What else could I do? It was a little bit of a bummer, but a bummer I would rather have than the opposite. Watching the Bubbys get gummy and pasty. Taking them home in shame. Putting them in a plastic bag and throwing them into the freezer to become someone's lunch at a later day, or a sacrificial Bubby for the display. I mean, it was a champagne problem. A good problem to have. I will take it. But the potential lost. I mean, I hope it just means people next time will treat me like temporary commodity as opposed to a weird-ass dude, selling weird-ass shit, while sporting too much pink. I mean, one thing I did today was no put the Cubby Bubby t-shirt up. Dangling from a string like normal. One thing I learned from last weeks market was from the pictures Professor Curly took of me. The Feng Shuai of booth was thrown off by the dangling t-shirt. I need either nothing there, or another mannequin. Like a second Vanna White, as it were, if anyone knows what that means. I mean, I assume that people do, but who knows? I don't think anyone watches television anymore, so maybe Pat Sajak doesn't also ring any bells. I mean, do you think those two ever fucked? I mean, if you ask me, Pat Sajak is definitely gay, and Vanna White has never had sex in her life, or if she did it would be kind of scary, but also vanilla as fuck. I mean, she would probably have you eat her out while she looked at herself in the mirror, if you know what I mean? Like, literally holding a mirror. While periodically spraying Chloe' down at your face so she didn't have to smell herself. And there you are, going to town, your eyes burning, you can't tell what is happening. She is not responsive at all. And you don't know what to do. You ask her what she likes. She shrugs. You give up. You turn her over and go to town. She is looking at herself in the mirror. Spraying perfume on her butt. You don't know what to do about any of it. You go soft. And lay down next to her. She looks over at the clock, and says:

"Oh! The Wheel is on!" Then she turns on the television. You get up to make a sandwich. You ask her if she wants anything. She thinks about it. She says:

"Almonds, love." You make your sandwich. Standing in a giant kitchen that never gets used. You wonder what you are doing with your life. You find the almonds. They are frozen in the freezer. They are unsalted. You frown as you pour some into a floral glass bowl. You walk back into the bedroom. Hand her the almonds. She watches herself on the television. Laughing and pointing. While somehow peeling the brown skin off of the frozen almonds. You say:

"What'd I miss?" The smell from your sandwich wafts over to her. She picks up the bottle of perfume and sprays it in your face. She says:

"Ew! Watch this! I do a vowel next!" You get up from the bed walk silently to the kitchen. You put the sandwich on the ten foot island. You walk out into the driveway. Naked. Get in your car. And drive screaming through Laurel Canyon until the cops pull you over. Dazed and broken. Not knowing how you got there, or what life even means anymore. Andrew! Get this god damn dog out of here!

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I mean, whatever. How the hell did I just go down that rabbit hole? I mean, Vanna White had something to do with it, but I honestly don't know what triggered it, and I don't want to go back and see. I am afraid it will just send me back down the hole. I can fix it in post, as Professor Curly would say. You know, because she is a director of movies. I mean, she made it to [Redacted.] I mean, I don't know how she does it. I just hope she has good feelings about it all. That this is all leading somewhere. I mean, a late night plane to Europe. The next day. Ugh. Getting there at like 9a. And then having to fight that time change. And then floating around the festival, everyone else being in some zombie state as well. Plus she has the added bonus of being the Headliner. Which, I mean, in my experience, when nobody gives a shit about you, you can just get drunk and act like a boob, but if you are the Headliner? Sucks to be you. Although, I mean, I suppose you get treated better, and maybe that makes up for it, but still, I mean, I don't know. I mean, I suppose I would would feel different about things if someone was celebrating my books or something, so maybe it feels nice to be wanted?

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I don't know. I guess that is it. Nothing else to report about the Farmers Market. Andrew is ignoring me. That fucking dog, my god! Leave me alone! Stop staring at me! I mean, this is the point where I don't know if that is a funny joke or not. You know? How if I was doing this on stage I would at least get a response. Good or bad. I mean, I could refine my jokes because of it. But no, I am just flapping in the breeze here. Maybe it is funny, maybe it is stupid, maybe it is both, maybe it is neither? I will never know. I mean, I may never know. Sometimes I get feedback, which I do appreciate, but that is not required. Which is what makes writing kind of the best form of communication. If you don't like what I am writing you can just stop. End of transaction, like that donut joke from that one guy, Mitch Something. Hedwig? With the angry inch. I mean, six inches long and five inches back! Hilarious. That is not the same guy, but I will include it though.

[Insert Hedwig and the Angry Inch]

But you know what I mean though? And maybe the 'shrooms did kick in though. Thanks for pointing that out, Andrew. Do me a favor and get that fucking dog outside! I can't have him staring at me like that! I mean, how I can just blather on and on and on and all have to do to disconnect from my mind is to stop reading. I mean, this is why, Spoiler Alert, I actually loved the Sopranos ending. I mean, when you read that, the word Sopranos, you can see the gun in the "R" right? Isn't that fucked? That was something genius. But how that show ended. I mean, that song played on the way to the Market today. I listened to it full blast. It is a good song. I don't care what you say. As far as songs are concerned, it does the job. But let me just say Don't Stop

[Insert Sopranos Ending]

See it doesn't work with writing. But still. My point has been made. Andrew! You son of a bitch! Get your dog out of my space!