OUT HERE IN THE FIELDS…
Is not like it used to be. Seeing old men scurry to tools and rust, mom striding to the first antique seller, and at least one person already looking at you with envy just because.
Instead it’s a whatnot seller next to you having a live auction while at the flea market, Amazon pallet sellers, and produce. The flea markets here are dry. People would rather set up at home (yard sale) or marketplace or even try it themselves. Thriftiness is no longer going to a thrift store to save money. A flea market is no longer a playground for deals.
I miss the flea market. It was a place where you knew there’d by something for you, you just didn’t know what it was ‘til you found it. A place where you saw the same dealers and befriended them since you were a kid. A place of trust, where if they said it was that, that’s what it was. Not a trivial “let me google this”, it was all about trusting your eye and having experience. When the finds were better than the breakfast and now the breakfast is better than the finds. How I yearn for the feeling again of hope and leave with disappointment.
Do you miss your flea market?