Just Another Saturday at the Austin Farmers’ Market


A dog on a leash.

A guy talks to a girl. He’s 2 steps ahead and 2 ft taller.

A bearded man rings a triangle. He sells The Best Tacos.

“Taco Happy Hour right now! Buy a taco and be happy!”

A girl twirls her hair.

A boy jumps up and down.


A crane still taller than the building it’s putting up.

A guy eats a bacon, egg, & cheese taco. He starts bobbing his head.

The plumpest butt in light gray yoga pants.

A banjo player sits on a kick drum as he plays a tambourine with his foot and hits notes on his harmonica.

He starts to sing DON’T THINK TWICE, IT’S ALRIGHT.

“It ain’t no use in turnin’ on your light, babe
That light I never knowed.”

A person holds a leash.

A guy in a beanie throws his sales pitch to 3 people interested in his Texas French Bread.

2 guys in sunglasses and flannel shirts walk 2 dogs. 1 dog walks toward me and walks a little away from me and squats to shit.

1 guy whispers,

“Oh shit.”

The other guy whispers,

“Oh shit.”

And I see them look around to make sure someone sees their dog in flagrante.

I’m expecting them to make a quick getaway. I’m already thinking about standing up and walking elsewhere at the first waft. But the 2 guys are spied by too many people. They are officially a c c o u n t a b l e for their dog. 1 guy – the 1 with more stylish shades – pulls a green baggy out of his pocket and stoops down.

I look at the place where there once were 4-5 nuggets of fecal matter. There is only grass there now, grass no different from the grass I’m sitting on 2-3 ft away. Would I warn someone before they got comfortable on that sullied plot?

An old man with skunk hair walks right where the dog had his way and he doesn’t know anything except that he’s moving forward. The back of his shirt says,


A guy with a beige Stetson – that’s beaver on his head – listens to the 1-man-banjo-band doing DON’T THINK TWICE, IT’S ALRIGHT. He’s waiting for his wife to finish talking with 2 crunchy women, but they aren’t fucking leaving without getting some talk-time. I hear 1 of them say “visionary” and “energy” and “tell me more” before the guy can’t even fake interest. He looks politely at the 2 women who cornered his wife and walks toward the coffee booth. He claps when the banjo players sings,

“But Goodbye’s too good a word, babe
So I’ll just say fare thee well.”

2 different women buy Texas French Bread. The guy in the beanie takes a wad out of his pocket and flicks out change in dollar bills. The 2 women walk away with 1 loaf each. The guy in the beanie folds in 2 legs on 1 table. He’s running out of this week’s stock. To pass the time, he airs his wad and turns each bill to face the same direction.

A baby in a papoose straddles her mom’s torso. The mom looks around with both hands free. It looks like the baby flew into her with such great force that she clung, “You’re mine!”

But it’s really the opposite, I guess.

The 1-man-banjo-band has packed his belongings. He walks south, behind the tents of farm food.

The man in charge of The Best Tacos strokes his beard and rings his triangle.

“Hello, that’s me ringing! I don’t want to take any of my tacos home!”

A rotund and bespectacled Jesus figure saunters by with his shoulders thrown back. His shirt is yellow and has 3 Zs in the center.

The man in the beanie caps looks at me with a suspicious facial expression.

He probably thinks I’m camped out in front of his lucrative booth for malicious reasons.

A man plays acoustic guitar on the stage in front of the 500-year-old Live Oak.

“Glory, glory, hallelujah.
Glory, glory, hallelujah.”

The Best Taco vendor asks everyone around him to please acknowledge their hunger.

December 18, 2010 7:01 pm

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