This morning at 7:30 Tom bounded into the bedroom fully dressed, and plopped down beside me. "I think I'll go to the farmers' market. Do you want to come?"
To me, the farmers' market is hell on earth. Mobs of people. The sun beating down on piles of fruits and vegetables. I'd rather go to Home Depot. I'd rather go to the Sports Basement! I'd almost rather have a root canal. I told him I thought I'd pass. The last thing I remember is yelling, "Don't buy too many fruits and vegetables!"
There is one redeeming feature at the farmers' market in case you're ever pressured into going early on a Saturday morning. Hayes Street Grill has a booth there. You can buy a crab cake sandwich & coffee, take it behind the Ferry Building, and sit by yourself and sulk.
