Friday, July 29, 2005

Every Saturday

Every Saturday morning he rides down to the Farmers' Market. He waits for the whistle to blow that announces the beginning of selling. You can't cheat on the time. You just have to wait.

Every Saturday he goes to the same vendors. He'll get a few kolaches from the Amish woman. He pronounces it 'ay-mish'. He'll go to the woman who makes her own dog biscuits from healthy grains and such... a variety of sizes and flavors for the several dogs he calls his 'new friends'. He'll purchase some yellow tomatoes (because the red ones cause him too much reflux from the acid). Perhaps he'll see a pepper or two that look interesting to him and get those. The girl he likes works at a bar. She likes hot peppers.

Every Saturday he has a single red rose delivered to a bar. Every Saturday he raps his cane on the window so the girl will open the door and let him inside. Every Saturday they smile at each other and say "Happy Saturday!" as if it's a special thing for them both.

But, every Saturday, the girl thinks it's a very sad and lonely tradition they both share.

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