The Italian Market – Philadelphia PA

Katherine and I walked down a little ethnic street market near Pat’s after this. They were selling everything here from cheap dollar store crap to live pigeons and fruit I’ve never seen in my life (sadly unlabeled, though I think one was a pawpaw.) The most bizarre part of this was all the street signs advertising various meats… instead of reading “fresh pork” they had cartoonish paintings of pigs wielding meat cleavers or smiling. There was something slightly off with that… I only found one sign with three melancholy animals sadly looking downwards. One looked suspiciously like a poodle though I guess it was supposed to be a sheep.

It was a nice walk with interesting people, different things to pick at. There was even a place selling old vinyls for a buck a piece. Neither of us felt like carrying anything so we merely poked at them a bit. It was a good way to get rid of our cheese steaks too. By the time we were done walking our little lunch was riding safely in our bellies.

We walked a little bit from here to reach the subway which we were on and off of all day. Somewhere along the route we ran into a woman walking a dog that I swear was a cross between a pit bull and a Jack Russell. Ugliest little thing I have ever seen! But he seemed well behaved. The people on the other hand… most were friendly and docile but there was one guy yelling at his little 3-4ish year old son for crying. “If you keep crying you’re going to bed!” Kid was crying about his leg hurting, he just wanted to be picked up for Christ’s sake, you’re right in front of your place of residence, just pick the damn thing up! I’m bad with kids but even I knew this one… small children make for crappy walking companions, expect to have to carry them. I suppose bad parenting is everywhere. Got into a discussion about how people who would be good parents never seem to be able to have children or don’t want any. I know I sure don’t want any, especially after going to the Mutter Museum and seeing what happens with other little bundles of joy who happen to be genetic fuck-ups. I know my family’s genetics are completely wonky, why tempt Murphy?

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