|That's me in the red pullover and tan shorts - do I look like I belong?|
Yesterday I received a sad and long vitriolic comment on a long ago posting I had on the Laurel Flea Market. Sad because my original posting was a tongue in cheek posting but apparently my attempt at dry humor was lost on the commenter. Sometimes, nuance doesn't come through on blog postings.
Sad because I was actually extolling the virtues of the Laurel Flea Market. I did make the point that there are two main cultures here in southern Delaware. The "natives", that is basically the "good old Southern boys" culture. The skinny guys almost always missing a couple of teeth, either from meth or lack of money for regular dental visits. You takes your choice.
|Mr. Reds caught our eye - standard "uniform" - pullover, with pants down his ass - I think they're shorts but they could also be "high water pants"|
After a long diatribe, the commenter told me I was a "snob" and to "go back from where you came from." Yeah, take my money too?
|Me on the prowl looking for that bargain - notice the rainbow umbrella - we're everywhere!|
Nope, the folks you see at the Laurel Flea market are a cross section of the diverse cultures here in Sessex County. Hispanics, old biker guys with gray, ratty pony tails and bulging beer bellies, some orientals and just maybe a smattering of "snobs" like me who are looking for a bargain or just a chance to experience life in Southern Delaware.
|I DO look out of place don't I?|
Bill asked me this morning if I wanted to go to the Laurel Flea Market. An interesting coincidence because I hadn't even mentioned the sad and hateful comment I received on my blog posting about the Laurel Flea Market. At first I didn't want to go, not in the mood. Then I thought "Why not?" Today is a nice day. Low humidity (thank God) and temperatures in the 80's. Actually really summertime weather instead of the "someone left the oven door open" weather we've been having the past two weeks.
|Wouldn't you know it. I'm standing underneath the dresses!|
So we took a ride down to Laurel. It was packed. Couldn't find a parking place. I wanted to go home. Bill wanted to stay. I hate driving around a dusty, dirt parking lot looking for a slot. I just know I'll get another dent in my car. Lots of pickup trucks and dented vans at the Laurel Flea Market.
|Do my pants make me look fat?|
We got lucky and found a parking spot on macadam. Only thing we were next to one of THOSE VANS with the suspicious looking characters in it. Looked like dope dealers to me. And hold off sending me any nasty comments. I know when someone is dealing dope. No reason for that many young guys to be hanging around the van, going in and out the back rustling through their "paper bags." Give me a break.
Bill and I walk around. Interesting characters to say the least. Of course we're interesting characters to others too.
I bought a pink Crepe Myrtle. I saw a Royal Doulton figurine of a lady in a gown that caught my eye. It said "Please rescue me!" I walked by but before I got to the end of the row I told Bill "I have to go back and see how much that cost." I go back, pick up the delicate figurine (I could almost see a smile appear on the figurine's face) and asked the grizzled, pony-tailed biker type "How much?" "Fifty!" he spits at me. I gently place her back on the worn table with her trashy friends and leave without a word. $25 ......maybe but not $50.
Bill buys a watermelon. Has trouble getting change. The lady who took his $10.00 bill for the $3.00 watermelon probably "forgot" she was to give Bill change. Bill had to chase her down then she professed not to understand what he was saying. Bill got his change after much arm waving and shouting. You don't short change Bill.
|That's Bill on the left in the plaid shirt - fondling the watermelons|
Bill said "Let's go. I'm tired. I had enough."
We went back to our car. I see the dusty, white, dented van with the suspicious looking characters in the back has gone too. Gots to keep moving fellas.
We head home down Rt. 9 through Georgetown on this summer Saturday morning, admiring the many different colors of Crepe Myrtle trees lining our route.
We get home. Unload our car. Just before I go into the house I check the side panel door to see if I have a "souvenir" from the Laurel Flea Market. Sure enough, I do. My door now has a "Laurel Flea Market" ding with paint scraped off. Only about an inch but enough to draw my eye to it every time in the future when I go to my car.
I got my touch up paint out and touched it up. I can still see where the ding was but at least my eyes won't be drawn to it every time I get into my car.
Thus ended our Saturday Morning Adventure to the Laurel Flea Market. Bill said "Want to go again tomorrow?" Um.....no, one ding is enough.
|My "buy" of the day, a pink crepe myrtle bush! $9.50!|