Pickle Day

First of all, my husband calls me Pickles when he is feeling affectionate. Neither of us can remember how that came about, something about loving pickles and then loving me.

Today was Pickle Day on Orchard Street and I was very anxious to sample every pickle they had. That turned out to be possible only if you were willing to get sweaty with about 1000 other people, most of them not true pickle lovers. How do I know they weren't true pickle lovers? Because in front of each tasting station, they stood with their toothpick in hand, but unsure as to whether they should actually skewer for a taste. They had a million questions, or else they were stunned by the choices. At each stand there was at least 4 people clogging up the line because of indecision, not about BUYING but about TASTING. Like if they tasted the wrong thing, they might be punished, or made to buy something they didn't like, or, horror of horrors, not like what they tasted.

So all in all it was annoying to deal with these imbeciles who are shocked at pickled cantaloupe (DELICIOUS!) or scared of making a decision between Sour and Half Sour (SOUR!). But probably, truth be told, it was annoying because it was about 100 degrees and there was no shade. It was HOT.