Oh, naive urbanite! So unsuspecting when you should have very well anticipated your well-known lack-of-fiscal control when facing a gym filled with tables, tables lined with farm fresh veggies and value-added delights at the much anticipated Cambridge Winter Farmer’s Market.
Oh, city-girl. How you underestimate your ability to leap to excitement, time and again. Why did you think you could stroll in, coolly observe, walk out only a dollar or so poorer, homemade marshmallow chick in pocket? When was the last time you exhibited such decorum at a farm stand or food truck (never?)
To think you assumed anonymity, when you’ve made so many friends of farmers! And besides, you are a swirl in the social pudding of Cambridge. Not a chance you can step into the most happening (and only) winter market in the “People’s Republic,” and then away without bumping into a friend . . . or six. Without making a new friend, or two.
Phoebe, Phoebe. Really! You should have known.
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