Go Figure: Daytona Flea and Farmers Market

 John and I went to the Daytona Flea and Farmers Market. Same stuff. Trump tshirts (John wanted one). Weed paraphernalia. Stuff I have no use for. Couldn’t find the Avon table, go figure. Need a map to get out of the place, literally. “Do you have coffee?” I asked the snack bar lady. “It’s old.” Can’t even get a cup of coffee. “Oh look, an alligator head”… that’s something we don’t have. Instead, John bought a small robotic plush kitten (“what’ll the cats think?”). We practically went in circles (squares, I mean). I found a KISS sign that Ray would like, but it’s missing three members of the band. John bought a new knife, which he’s sure is giving him a skin rash from the greasy chemicals used to treat the blade. Go figure. I did find a copy of Shoeless Joe by WP Kinsella, the book that made the movie Field of Dreams (we just watched that), and I would’ve bought it but I don’t think I’ll read it. Almost lost John in “Knick knack paradise” (hoarder-ville). Was interested in various rocks and crystals, but John has no faith in them (“you could just as well sell concrete promising miracles”). I was intrigued by natural herbs and remedies (to treat my dad’s psoriasis. Or cellulitis?), but John says, again, “it’s a scam.” So I bought nothing. But I’ve got a pack of Pall Malls and a Mountain Dew , so I’m as truly satisfied as a Floridian can be. 

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