First published on The Belladonna Comedy‘s site. (Check them out, they’re amazing.)
Hey New Friend,
We may have just met at the farmer’s market two days ago, but I was exceedingly excited that you asked me, as well as 493 of your closest friends, via Facebook to help lug your items out of your apartment. This is a sure sign that we’re going to be in each other’s lives forever!
I am overjoyed that you scavenged through the thousands of other Hannah Johnson’s to find me on Facebook and ask me this favor, but broken hearted to hear you’re moving away from your big city apartment to live the dream of any farmer’s market goer: the tiny-barn life.
Quite frankly, I was shocked when only 7 people showed up to help you lug your stuff on foot to your tiny home parked only a mile away. Why would anyone not want to help you?! Especially after you mentioned that a whole tub of BBQ sauce from the farmer’s market would be our reward for helping, I knew it was meant to be. Sometimes I bathe in antique barrels full of that sweet, sweet farmer’s market BBQ sauce.
Instant friendship like this one isn’t like those disgusting instant mashed potatoes you can buy at the store. It’s more like the slow-grown Amish potatoes stored in Amish furniture to ensure its authentic flavor.
Your best friend instincts knew that I needed to meet people because I was as single as a piece of unpicked organic arugula, wilting all alone in the sun. Then there you were — asking to borrow three dollars for parking! You would never let a single ounce of arugula be left alone. You’d cuddle it and tell it everything was okay, because it’s so misunderstood. Just like me.
When I climbed up to your tiny barn loft bed area to bring in your kale-filled bed, our friendship grew even further than I thought it ever would because you knew exactly the temperature I like: splendidly sauna-like. I finally felt at peace, like the wonderfully humid temperature was taking my soul away from my body. I even got a glimpse of farmer’s market heaven.
It was amazing and I never wanted it to end. One day, I know we both will go to farmer’s market heaven. We will sweat organic BBQ sauce all day in our tiny barn sauna and then can sell them at the mega-super-ultimate-fresh-EXTRAVAGANZA farmer’s market.
All our dreams will finally come true.
Your friend forever,