Amuse bouche... Community Service
Elaine was livid, and she really didn’t want to arrive at the farmers’ market livid. That wasn’t the spirit of it. Someone was in her parking space, though. Well, it wasn’t officially her space, but it was where she had been parking since she started on her friend Peggy’s stall.
Peggy was selling fudge but not enough, so she asked Elaine to bring some of her amazing halva. They’d be like naughty and nice, with the refined-sugar fudge and the healthy sesame halva, Peggy said. Peggy was so funny. And Peggy had her car in the park, where they allowed one car per stall. It hadn’t mattered until today, when the place was suddenly overrun with yummy mummies bringing their little pets back to football practice. A tiny woman was parking her giant white SUV in Elaine’s spot. It was like watching a mouse park a polar bear, thought Elaine, as another space came free.
Elaine had to haul the halva in its cooler box across the busy road. The cooler box was a heavy necessity. As she told the customers, you have to either get the halva home to the fridge fast, or eat it immediately. She glowered at Mrs Mouse.
“We try to keep these spaces free for the market traders,” Elaine said. “Who’s we?” Mrs Mouse answered. “The traders.” “So the traders use up spaces that could be used by customers?” asked Mrs Mouse.
“Look, we’re providing a service to the community,” answered Elaine, trying to flounce off elegantly.
At the stall, Peggy hadn’t much interest in Elaine’s sorry tale. Business wasn’t great. The market manager had said that the fudge was a bit overpriced, and Peggy couldn’t afford to drop the price any further.
Even worse, the cute guy in the coffee van had moved away, closer to the football yummy-mummies.
It was all a bit dull and drizzly and full of samples-tourists. It’s not a fecking buffet, Elaine felt like saying.
“Halva! I love halva,” a voice said, as Elaine checked that the rest wasn’t melting in the cooler. “Do you remember it from when we were posted in Beirut, darling?” The little boy shook his head at his mummy, Mrs Mouse.
“I’ll take some home to Daddy,” Mrs Mouse said. She paid Elaine without a flicker of recognition. Elaine didn’t bother to explain the refrigeration issue.