Ithaca Farmer's Market: 10 AM, April 2nd.
From yards away my companion and I spot an artist's booth with a cardboard figure hanging from it. I gasp, awestruck, and say "Look at that man! I wish he could be mine" to which my friend replied, "Five bucks and he's yours."
We were way too far away to see if he was even for sale- he looked like a sign for the booth, an advertisement that she probably wouldn't want to part with if we asked. Skeptical, I relayed these reservations but my friend put them to rest, saying "Everything here is for sale for the right price, and mine is five dollars. If he's five dollars, he's yours."
We approached. We saw a tag. The tag read $5.
I love him almost as much as I love saying, "There's a man hovering over my bed."
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