:: Half-sour ::

Tuesday, October 04, 2005

I've gone to the International Pickle Day festival for three straight years now. It's become, for reasons rational and random, a tradition of my time here in NYC. Part of the appeal is being confronted with the oddball and quirky zeal which any niche business seems to require as a prerequisite to proprietorship. Said one such animated brine-slinger when asked about a competitor:

Forget them. They import all their pickles from Canada. I'm the last original store on the Lower East Side. I'm the last original store. My store's been here for a hundred years, and they moved in and they stole my client list.

[he pauses, half-smiles a resigned smile]

But you know, it's always been like that. Even back then it was cutthroat. Pickling is a cutthroat business.

Mmm... salty.

Posted by morland @ 09:44 AM

:: Comments ::

Man, f*ck that Lower East Side brine-slinger. Canadian pickes are the shizzle.

Posted by: Dr. Eh? on October 6, 2005 11:03 AM

Mmmm. Pickles.

Posted by: choistein on October 6, 2005 07:33 PM

heh heh

Posted by: Mrs. Dr. Glasses on October 7, 2005 06:54 PM

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