“You must have a miserable life”
That was directed – to me – from a vendor this past Saturday at the Durham Farmer’s Market. After finishing the Running of the Bulls 8k, Aaron and I wandered through the lovely stands, which we had not done in ages. Seeing my post-race crust, this vendor offered me a free sample of his soap. Alas, I kindly declined, attributing the fact of my gentle refusal to my vegan lifestyle (the soap was goat’s milk based, but he honed in on the honey factor). This is when those six words tumbled out of his mouth toward me.
My first thought was something I cannot post alas I would owe the swear jar some $ (plus the whole notion that one’s online reputation follows them everywhere). My second thought was: how sad, for this man. i do not know anything about him, nor do I care to at this junction. It would appear that he has assumptions of what “being a vegan” means, and sadly for him, I believe his thoughts are clearly misguided. Miserable life? I have an incredible life, some of which has to do with what I eat/apply/use for my body and health, and much of the rest stems from those who I surround myself and draw and learn from.
Muttering under our breaths, we continued on, foraged some beautiful vegetables (kohlrabi, squash, cucumbers, English peas, and beets) and happened to walk by this vendor’s stand again. And – here comes the best part –
he offered me another free sample and used my first name that was on my race bib.