Losing My Mind at the Dutch Country Market
We are becoming so uncharitable as a society. The people are feeling the effects of so many outside forces and instead of finding a productive outlet for their pain and frustration, they are attempting vehicle manslaughter at the local Dutch Country Market. What was once a fun afternoon errand to get everything from pretzel logs to shoofly pie, has no become a game of survival akin to an extreme sport… and I plan to do it all again this week.
This Saturday, I got my hair braided in what turned out to be the single most harrowing braiding experience I have ever had. The salon was closed so they moved all of the braiders and equipment AND bustling you would expect of a braid shop into a small two bedroom apartment. They also had every client sit in what could only be described as gold-painted plastic chairs from an African Uncle® lounge. So I sat, for almost 4 hours, pressed between the kitchen island and the oven listening to the sounds of price negotiations and heated French arguments. Needless to say, I was a little cranky after leaving. To easy my discomfort, I decided to make a quick stop by the market and get myself a nice, soothing pretzel roll hotdog.
This did not ease my pain. To the contrary, I saw the worst of humanity that day. To start, the market is located in a tiny strip mall right alongside a state highway. The parking is plentiful enough but there are other business that utilize the space as well. This is a problem because the market is way too popular to share the space. The parking lot fills up quickly and despite people seeing that, they try and force their way into the parking lot anyway. On this day, the traffic getting into the OBVIOUSLY full parking lot went about a half a mile down the road, blocking traffic getting off the exit. Then as you get closer, the people trying to enter the parking lot from across the street refuse to acknowledge any other traffic and insist on blocking the intersection entirely. A haunting cacophony of car horns fills the air.
It was so bad, I ended up having to turn around a full mile down the highway, where I was still cutoff by an eager customer anyway. I ended up parking across the street (what everyone should have been trying to do at that point) and walking across. Harrowing. People were speeding through the crossing, angry at not getting in all the while paying no actual attention to the people walking in front of them. I saw too many close calls and all I could think was, “If you park five minutes away nothing would stand in between you and the wing special.”
Inside was no better as I actual saw people jostling for access in the market. Like, I love the pies too but is a cinnamon apple crunch really worth throwing (proverbial) bows? Are surprisingly affordable greens really enough to get you to shove past your fellow man? What has become of us? I couldn’t stand the sight of it all so I got my apple pie, two pretzel logs, and left feeling dejected and also too hungry for any of this.
I’m old enough to remember a time where the social contract between strangers at a market was in tact. Where even if you were in a rush you were still mindful of the people around you to an extent. Where the holiday season meant that people would crack a joke with a stranger or let an old lady through but those days are gone. Now we all move like we’re reeling from something and just going outside is made all the worse for it. Maybe I was just naïve in thinking that even though things around me deteriorate, the people in my area are just chill enough to keep the market experience from being terrible. Maybe this is a part of growing up and it’s always been like this. Anyway they have special Thanksgiving hours this week so I’m going to have to find a time to secure more pies.