Saturday, September 6, 2008

It's a Showdown.

Bread. It is a simple thing, but a tricky issue in my house. I usually buy a really heavy, grainy loaf and take a month eating it out of the freezer. I have one housemate who is gluten intolerant, another who only eats Wonderwhite, the other likes his bread as wholemeal, but to still dissolve in the mouth. The other housemate, well, he only believes in rice and doesn't make much of an appearance in the house.
At the market today, I went to my usual bread people, but there was one woman who I hadn't seen before. I usually try and stay away from the market on Saturdays because of the crowds, but I had nothing but cheese and condiments at home.
There was already something wrong.
So, I ask this woman if they have any of the Irrewarra Sourdough Breakfast Seed loaves left.
She looks around.

...


and around...


"No, no ILLawarra," she says. And I see her pick up a loaf of wholemeal. No thanks, I like my bread with texture. "We have this one. It's the same."
Ahem.
You're full of shit, lady. Sorry, but you are.
"What is it?" I ask, just to make sure. My friend looks at me and laughs and I turn back to this lady who is trying to get the attention of the regulars.
She's poking them while they're trying to serve people, and it takes around three minutes to get a response. I know this because I keep checking my phone.
"It's a wholemeal. It's the same."
"Um...do you have something that is heavier and grainy?" I say.
"I'll get back to you."

She wanders off for another few minutes and comes back with a soy and linseed loaf. I'm bored already and ask her to slice it for toast.
My friend is now clutching at my arm and can't stop laughing.
There are about ten people behind me and I feel like I am in a mosh pit.
"Where is this woman?" my friend asks.
"Who the fuck knows..."
We're now looking through all their products and counting off all the ones we have eaten before and my friend tells me that he wishes he could have the fig and anise loaf for life.
She finally passes me the loaf and I give her the money.
Fuck, I need change.
We wade through the crowd of people and make a turn for the cheese (yes, more).
"Fucking hell, what a slapper."
"You know you only got away with this because of the green dress you're wearing and the way it falls makes people think that they might be able to see nipple? If you dressed like a lesbitch like you usually do, the crowd would have eaten you" My friend says.
"What?"
"Oh, and you're passive aggressive. That's true."

I see myself turning into Job from Arrested Development and going , "C'MON!"

*Post script*

Oh yeah, I am now eating a sandwich with brandy port and sage pate and gerkins. Yeah, a 9pm dinner of ridiculous before a stupidly long night. Every time I take a bite of the sandwich, I literally can't help myself but shake my head and think: you idiot, I am going to hit you with a baguette.

2 comments:

Glyn said...

hello darling,

this is GLyn, i've been reading through all these and they are wonderful and delightfully insightful. they are also strangely calming. i adore it all
xx say hi to D for me

bunchesmcginty said...

Why, hello there, Glyn.

You still owe me a flyer.

x
Be good...or at least try.