Thursday is pickup day, and today I came prepared to be restrained and sedated. I told myself, "Self, if we get one more delivery of kale and squash, I am going to invert every single table in the distribution center, eviscerate the squash, and tear the bug-eaten leaves of kale asunder while reciting the Greek alphabet...backwards."
For the last 3 or 4 weeks, "Farmer Monotony" has been inundating the co-op with squale (squash & kale) and, frankly, I am sick to death of the two--that is, both the squale and the discourteous farmer. The squale can't spoil fast enough in my crisper. Unfortunately, I arrived "late" (about an hour and fifteen minutes before closing) two weeks in a row so whatever shot at variety I had was long gone, having been swaddled in some early bird's organic, biodegradable, fair trade, cotton tote and gingerly whisked off to some nearby destination. Mind you, the pickup window is 4-ish to 7 pm and I foolishly thought I could arrive by 6 pm to collect my stated shares. Yeah, right. I was met all too often with the heartbreaking statement, "Looks like we're all out of the carrots and beets (note to reader: you may substitute whatever veggie here) so I guess you'll just have to double up on the squash and kale." Are you kidding me? Squale is a very poor choice for a consolation prize. I mean, really, who wants 5 lbs. of squale?
It was 5:45 when I got off the train this evening. Darn the MTA and its slowing moving passengers, I thought to myself. Stand clear of the closing doors. Is that so difficult to comprehend? I knew for sure that I would be "squaled" again. Pass the wire gate, around the perimeter of the mud garden (I guess it's supposed to be grass but it's mostly mud), and to the makeshift reception area, where one is routinely ignored, I went. I scrawled my name across the sign in sheet, clenched my teeth, flexed my muscles, and walked over to the tables. Ding, ding, ding. It was going down. Don't start none, won't be none. I was about to give a good ol' fashioned Bronx beat down to the godforsaken squash but something appeared in my peripheral vision. What is this? Cucumbers, onions, corn, green pepper, basil, fava beans, and baby greens. Whoa, I am first stunned motionless and then spurred into action by the lady with the organic, biodegradable, fair trade, cotton tote making a beeline for the basil. Oh, no she didn't cut the line! Stand back it's about to get ugly, sister. I elbow my way through the fray and throw in a few rib shots for good measure.
I (or a family of 2-3) am entitled to 1 ear of corn, 1 large onion, .75 lbs of fava beans, .25 lbs of basil, 2 peppers, 2 lbs of squash, and, get this, 3.75 lbs of cucumbers. How do you split one ear of corn among three people anyway and what am I going to do with 3.75 pounds of cucumbers (6 very large Cucumis sativus)? And you know what? I know why I've been getting squaled. The lady with the organic, biodegradable, fair trade, cotton tote was taking more than her fair share of basil, peppers, and onions. OMG, and so was another cotton toter! She and her pilfering lot swoop down like ravenous vultures and make off with other members' shares. Stealthily, the produce is first swaddled in organic fabric and then gingerly whisked off to some nearby destination. Perhaps they are all members of some secret society of purloiners. Maybe I'll make a cucumber face mask before too many of them spoil in the crisper.
Hey, at least I didn't get squaled this time...
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