Dear Dekalb Farmer's Market,
By the time you get this letter, I'll be gone. I tried really hard to make this relationship work but you just won't let me in.., until I've checked my backpack or reusable shopping bags at your entrance. I cant help but get the feeling you don't trust me. I certainly can't miss the giant signs you're throwing up.., about checking my bags.
The crowd that you run with made me very uncomfortable, all those hippies, I always felt like an outsider. I guess because I bathe, drive a car that isn't practically made of political opinion stickers and brush my teeth. Not that you'd notice of course, you always smell of rotting fish, everywhere. Not just in your fish department but all the way across your store. It just killed the romance. Forget a nice afternoon of smelling the stem ends of fruit to see if they're ripe; the only ripe thing anyone can smell is you!
And Honey, I hate to break it to you but your proper title is "International Market". Farmer's markets are places you can go to purchase goods directly from the farmers who grew said goods. Just drop the whole "farmer's market" thing, you're not fooling anyone.
Don't get me wrong, it wasn't all bad. You have really great deals on spices! Maybe you can elaborate on that. And remember, good unspoiled fish smells like nothing; try to be a good fish.
With All My Love,