The Vegetable Nazi

On our first Sunday in Burgundy, we went to the market in Chablis. French markets have everything you would expect to find in an American farmer's market--produce, meat, honey and jams, baked goods--and many things you wouldn't. Mattresses, for example.

We strolled through, buying some cheese Michael had heard about. Checking out the olive and dried fruit booth. Did you know you can dry kiwi slices? The most popular meat booth had an entire pig (head and all) on display. There was a long line waiting to be served there.

After we had finished exploring, Michael asked me to pick up some vegetables while he purchased some picnic supplies from another booth. The vegetable booth we were standing in front of had tables of vegetables on either side of the walkway. Michael assured me he had seen customers picking out vegetables themselves, and he pointed to the plastic bags available to hold them.

And then he left. I found the onions and carrots he wanted and put them in plastic bags, being careful to only touch the ones I was buying. The tomatoes were on the table on the other side of the walkway, and I noticed that customers there were waiting for the vendors to help them. There was a line, so I waited.

All of a sudden, a man walked up from behind me, grabbed the vegetables out of my hands, and put them (still in their bags) back on the table. I held out my money, but he waved me away.

And then I realized that those vegetables had come from his vegetable booth, which curved around the corner of the street. I had taken his vegetables and was attempting to pay his competitor for them.

I tried to apologize and pay him, but he shook his hands at me and turned his back.

"No vegetables for you!"