So it is Sunday. And a very enjoyable Sunday at that. To begin with, I must chat about today’s marché (farmer’s market) experience. First of all, last week, Diana and I went on Saturday, so I guess we figured that going on a Sunday wouldn’t be that bad. WRONG. It was chaos and pandemonium. You think the kind old women looking for their Sunday suppers will be slow and frail? Wrong again.
First we went to our local Franprix. There are all different kinds of markets and grocery stores in Paris and there are lots of laws regarding sizes, prices and items that can be sold. Franprix is a chain grocery store that carries pretty cheap stuff and I think the quality is very good. So we decided that we would start there to pick up some of our basics that we usually get there. We walk through the doors and holy sugarballs, it is packed! Diana and I get separated and I spend a solid 8 minutes just looking for her at the end while she has already paid and is waiting on the other side. The cashier accused her of not paying for the bag she brought with her that she bought at a different Franprix. Which is entertaining to me because Diana looks like the least shady person in the store. There’s so many other more sketchier looking characters according to me. Obviously Franprix needs to talk to me about doing their security because I have caught at least two people stealing things already.
Finally I am able to pay for my goods and we head out to the marché. We decided beforehand that we would share a couple of things (if you buy eggs or mushrooms in big quantities, you save a lot more) and try to stay together. I’m carrying this huge cloth bag filled with stuff from Franprix and keep cursing to myself for not buying my beloved canvas cart yet. I make a mental note to do so asap. Because what I realize? Well if you have a canvas rolly bag, you can roll right over people’s toes to get where you want to go! Way to go Grandma who just left my left three toes broken, I’ll take a note from you! So I begin to use my huge, filled bag as a battering ram. Look out marché, I mean business.
So it’s crazy, no matter which way you turn, it feels like we’re swimming upstream. There are just so many people! At one point Diana and I get split apart and I wait next to a vendor for 6-7 minutes. I have a moment where I think to myself some friendly roommate thoughts, “Do I leave her behind as a lost cause or wait for her?” Finally we meet up again and make our way towards our last bulk purchase of eggs. On route, we get stuck behind this old guy. I start to pull in front of him and realize that he is reading a newspaper! Excuse me sir, does a crowded market filled with hungry and cheap people looking for deals seem like the best place to take your stroll while reading a newspaper?! Because I think you’re about to get you feet rolled over if you don’t put that damn newspaper away. But maybe Gung-Ho Grandma is his wife so he feels no concerns in making his purchases for that day?
I have learned yet another lesson. Don’t you fucking mess with Sundays.
Once we get back, I tend to my Sunday needs. I make a big delicious brunch, do my laundry, work on some homework and finally begin to start figuring out my travel plans. Our friend Soo drops by and is wearing all these cute new clothes. She tells us that she got them all at the flea market (which is at the Bastille, right near us). A bunch of our friends went, but Diana and I went to the marché instead..I think that tells you a little something about us…. We compliment Soo and then open our now filled fridge and await her compliments. Again, I think this tells you something about us.
Travel planning is really overwhelming, Dad, you’ll love hearing this-but I wish I had you as my official travel agent over here in Paris! I need Roberto (my Father’s travel agent alter-ego). So instead I book something that is a lot simpler and quicker…my first baking class! I officially enrolled in a baguette class that I’ll be taking in two weeks!