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.