In short, I drove all the way out to Bradshaw to go to the Persian market. It was closed. Their phone number was disconnected. Their hours weren't listed.
We went to the midtown bazaar, which was fine. We went to Dragatomi, which was fine. We went to Sugar Plum Vegan, which I was really looking forward to, but I forgot they were cash only now, so we went across the street to the Golden Bear. There, I had to fish a chunk of foil out of my iced tea, our frittata only vaguely resembled what we had ordered, and Z wouldn't sit in the tall chairs, so I had to eat with my left hand, which caused me to drip ketchup on myself, staining a beloved t-shirt. And the meal, which we split, came to almost $20.
Then I drove way the hell across town in another direction to the other Persian market, which did have what I needed. But their bag was flimsy, and when I got it out of the car, my pomegranate molasses dropped and broke.
Maybe I'll move to Australia.*
*Joking. It's from the book "Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day."
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