If you grew up in the south, chances are you love boiled peanuts. I have been savoring the delish salty flavor of boiled peanuts my whole life. As a little girl, my brother who is 11 years older than me, would wake me up late night on saturday nights when he came home so I could watch Saturday night live with him and eat boiled peanuts. He always stopped at a convenient store on the way home and purchased a couple of cans of boiled peanuts so we could have a little snack together (keep in mind he was 17 and I was 6!).
So yesterday C. informed me that he banned dry roasted peanuts from the boat because they are too messy…really? Fish guts are ok but a few peanut shells are ok? Male logic – go figure. He did say that we could stop and get some boiled peanuts…apparently they are acceptable because they don’t make a mess???
We headed to the lake and stopped at a convenient store just before the boat landing. My lucky day…there was an old dude selling boiled peanuts in the parking lot. $4.50 for large container. As I strolled in the store…happy as could be, I asked the peanut man- “so are your peanuts ready?” He responded, “I sure as hell hope so. Why else would I be here?” Oh dear…a grouchy old man.
All I needed was a little cash. Luckily they had an ATM. Unluckily- it was out-of-order. What’s a girl to do? Beg her husband for cash? That would seem to be the logical thing to do…but C. doesn’t ever have cash.
Next- barter with the man. I NEEDED those peanuts. So I went over to explain the situation to Mr. Peanut Man who was smoking cigarets. Allow me to set the stage- Beat up pick up- a little rusty and several shades of gray. Small trailer with a wooden contraption holding a caldron of peanuts. Man is old. Not many teeth. Old fashioned overhauls and white undershirt, chain-smoking. Then there is me. Cute black dress, big wide-brimmed boat hat, tori burch flip flops and pearl earrings.
Ok folks- not my first rodeo here. I grew up showing horses and I know about these old-fashioned country men. Surely I can barter this one out. So I approach him and begin to explain the situation. I don’t think he cares (or understands). I offer to buy him several packs of cigs in exchange for the peanuts. His response – “the cigarettes cost too much in that store.” Then- “I don’t understand how you could buy cigarettes when you don’t have any money”. oh dear…this is a hard one. So I pull out my debit card and explain that I have money but I can’t get to it because the ATM is broken. Back to square one. We stand there staring at each other a few minutes. C. has made a b-line for the car. He is not going to be part of this transaction. There is nothing in the store this man wants- doesn’t want a coke, or nabs or a hotdog…nothing.
desperate times call for desperate measures. I must have some boiled peanuts. My aha moment…I have a check. Mr. Peanut Man agrees to take a check! SUCCESS.
These boiled peanuts were so worth the $10 I paid for them (yes- I gave Mr. Peanut Man a little tip for his trouble). And for the first time in my life…I had to really barter to purchase boiled peanuts.