Two weeks ago, I went to the local flea market. Right now isn’t the high season, but it is still an enormous space filled with some of my favorite kinds of absolute garbage. Cheap Chinese electronics, Taiwanese “Shoupie” Markers, it was amazing.
However, everyone was charging some ridiculous Inflationland prices. A pack of “Shoupies?” $3. You could get the real Sharpie(tm) for a few bucks more and have a more solid guarantee of it’s quality and colorfastness.
So the prices were shit and no one wanted to bargain. Except for one booth.
One booth had bins. Rows and rows, covering a space larger than Pizza Cottontail’s cabin. Granted, his cabin is small, but what I’m trying to say is that this booth had a lot of shit.
6 packs of bras for $10 (That’s cheap, if you don’t know what bras cost.), PandyPaws for $3 (probably a pet health hazard), and in another bin, for just two dollars, machetes.
They even had sheaths. I don’t know what came over me, but in a very disappointing display, I did not buy it. Friend, this is a very stupid thing for me to do. I basically live alone in a big scary city now. This is no longer the boonies where it isn’t a problem to leave your door unlocked. This is the big city. There are city rats.
Ever since I didn’t buy this very useful tool, I have had dreams about Very Scary Things. Last night, I dreamed that I lived out of my car and had parked in the woods. Then the aliens came and started killing everyone and I did not have a machete.
The night before, I dreamed that my cats were not cats, but smother-monsters and I did not have a machete.
Obviously, I must remedy the situation and buy a machete, but the problem with going back is the $4 parking fee at the fairgrounds where the flea market is held.
The machete becomes a $10 investment at that point. ($4 for my initial park, $4 for my second park, and $2 for the actual salvation knife.)
And that’s why I am making vegan mayonnaise.