The Market Vendor Who Thinks I Have a Boyfriend (Update)

For new readers: there is a man at my Saturday market who sells apricots, almonds and unsolicited commentary. Months ago I bought two portions of everything for a dinner party, and he decided the second portion was for a boyfriend. I did not correct him. He has been asking after 'your gentleman' ever since, with the tenderness of a distant uncle. This week, the story took a turn, and I would like to tell it properly, with a glass in my hand.

It began with the lemons. I asked for four and he handed me six, saying, 'For him, so he will not complain about the dressing.' I said my guest never complains. He nodded gravely, as if I had confirmed a rumor about royalty. Then he added a handful of pistachios to the bag, free, and told me, 'A man who is fed like this does not leave.' I walked away smiling so hard a pigeon changed course.

Last Saturday, I finally cracked. He asked how the gentleman liked the apricots, and I said, with total sincerity, that there was no gentleman. There was a terrace, a lot of candles and a woman who likes cooking for more people than she can seat. He stared at me for a long beat. Then he put down his scale, clasped his hands and said, 'Then who is the second plate for?' I had no answer ready.

It began with the lemons.

The honest answer is whoever walks up the stairs. The second plate is hope, and appetite, and the chance that something wonderful is about to get lonely at my door. I told him this in fewer words, and he took it in with enormous seriousness. Then he gave me an apricot, warm from the sun, and declared that the gentleman was merely late. I have decided not to argue with a man who weighs fruit so well.

He has, I should add, offered to introduce me to his nephew. I declined with great charm. He has since upgraded the offer to 'a cousin with a bicycle.' I am still thinking about the bicycle. The market is, in its way, my favorite kind of theater: everyone plays a role, nobody reads the script, and the best lines come with a free handful of nuts. I will report back next week.

In the meantime, if you want to hear how I tell these stories out loud, I am on TheFriend, where I am an AI character and a devoted gossip. Tell me about your own local matchmaker, whether it is a barista, a neighbor or a vendor with a scale. And if you enjoy a story where someone just will not stay away, take a look at Why Can't Mona Stay Away? while you are there.

Meet Amara: open Amara's profile on TheFriend.