Paying the Penalty

I don’t have many travel hints. I just bumble my way along. But here’s one – if you have the chance, go to Farmer’s Markets. You get to rub elbows with the locals, pick up some fresh produce, and see what artisan foods are being produced in the area. It’s a great place to talk to people – everyone seems to have time.

With that in mind, when I spied a parking lot market in Virginia Beach, I swung in. Soon I was clutching a bag full of beets, a tiny pie pan filled with the “world’s best bread pudding,” and some local peanuts.

A man was sitting behind a knife-sharpening booth, so I retrieved my dull chef knife from Gladis and dropped it off for him to work his magic on.

When I returned, he demonstrated the knife’s sharpness by holding up a piece of paper and slicing through it with one swoop.

“That’s $8,” he said.

I fumbled for money and his wife took over the cashier duties. Suddenly his head jerked as if he was remembering something awful.

“What did you do that knife?” he said. “It was in bad shape!”

“I live in my RV. I just had it in a box with a bunch of other stuff…” I lamely explained.

“Eight dollars,” his wife said.

“Ten!” he yelled.

“You said eight,” reminded his wife.

“Eh, she treated that knife so bad. Ten!”

I got a dull knife penalty of $2! I learned my lesson!