And walking through what looked like a ghost town county fair with my pigtail braids and bucket in hand, everyone so in love [except for me], I declare "I'm gonna go get me a man."
But alas, the only man to be found was Mr. Red Shirt who was doing a very poor job at enforcing the rule of keeping the pickers from eating un-paid-for berries straight off the vine.
Eh, who am I kidding? I don't even want a man. I do, however, now want to go eat some more blackberries.
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