Strollers and shopping carts going every which way, weird musicians, pushy salespeople, patrons stepping on your feet in a mad dash for the last basket of strawberries -- this is a situation most people would go out of their way to avoid.

One friend's husband says farmers markets are "basically a scene out of a zombie apocalypse story." He goes on:

"Children are running and screaming. Parents are pushing their SUV-sized strollers through the crowd with gusto. Somewhere, someone is playing a guitar and singing, as if nothing is wrong. There is no sign of authority anywhere. Chaos rules the day."

2. Because dealing with the crowds and bad parking is not worth a tomato, heirloom or otherwise.

I hate big, outdoor, weekend-long concerts. The crowds, parking lines and overpriced water aren't worth it; I'd rather listen to my favorite bands in the comfort of my living room. Not as vibrant or exciting, sure, but a lot less hellish.

This is pretty much how your partner feels about tomatoes, corn and whatever else you are waxing rhapsodic about while you both stand uncomfortably sweating under the beating sun, waiting for the vendor to finish up his long, slow conversation with the woman in front of you. No vegetable is worth it, no matter how fresh.

3. Because they don't like talking to people. Especially the kinds of people who go to farmers markets.

At the supermarket, you are not expected to politely listen to a 15-minute long lecture about eggs from the kid stocking the egg case. That kid would be fired. Not so at the farmers market, where vendors and patrons often go out of their way to talk to you about what you are buying and how to prepare it. And then there are the people shoving samples of their expensive hummus in your face. Or the ones trying to get you to sign petitions, or pledge money to their causes, or buy their newsletter. As one friend puts it:

"I get shifty and introverted and don't want to have to chat with all the vendors and feel like I have to buy stuff I sample."

And then there is my husband, who has an irrational hatred of the man who offers 15-minute acupressure massages at our local market.

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