Sheik Yoboudi wrote: Aw, dang, and just when I was startin' te think I was a Peace to all Almonds kinda guy. That's the thing, though. There's an innate pressure, when you enter the market, and pace the aisles with yer cart and yer list. The produce is a'watchin and a'waitin, and judgin' you in every hesitation, every pause, every glance, every sigh of delight or frustration--- though it seems it might be the other way round. When you momentarily stop, grasp and hold up, and check a bruise on a star fruit, or the wax on an apple, when you squeeze on a cantelope or garner any attention at all to any single on the shelf, the eyes of all, the judgements fall, and the shopper's mystique is over, all known, all done, the legend of the shopper fails to satisfy anymore the leagues of produce in the stands. The shopper's human, just like everybody else. The produce watches and judges and waits, the shopper can't win but to leave empty-carted, or to willingly forget produce-eyes and confidently go for she wants, and leave so brazenly self-aware as to escape haught, profound ego, and leave everybody impressed with her convictions.