That's my business, or is it?

You know those towns that only exist on vacation? Every other store is an artisan's cooperative. The woman at the cashier is never one of the artists. "Is this your work", I always ask, ready with a pithy compliment like "Oh my, I have never seen glass beads and papier mache combined into such an unusual fruit bowl".
"Oh heavens no, I wish I were that talented but I'll pass your appreciation along to Zoe. She switched to mixed media after that nasty incident with the band saw.
The next store over is the coffee house with a name like "Get Beaned" and they sell the world's largest scones. "Come here, you gotta see these" I yell for my wife as I gaze admiringly into the pastry display. "Have you ever seen such big bear claws?"
One time in Hanalei, Hawaii, Tammy and I were strolling along the street and I saw the UPS truck making a delivery at one of these shoppes. I wonder if he feels lucky to live and work in Shangri La? "How's it feel to be the UPS guy in paradise?" I called out to him.
"It would be awesome if dental insurance came with the job."

I have visited and browsed in shoppes like this in every single state of the Union. Invariably, the husband is either following the wife around while she whispers words of admiration to him and he silently nods his head in approval, or he is waiting sullenly, outside, while she silently nods her own head in approval at all the whimsical creations in the shoppe. In any case, no one speaks above the hushed tones last heard at the library and certainly no one offers an opinion to the other patrons...... Except of course here in the Catskills. It's as if the old borscht belt crowd has morphed into the cafe breva belt crowd. No ones' verbalized opinions, no matter how quietly expressed, are to be left unanswered.
"That homemade soup sounds good" I whisper to my wife in the cafe.
"Oh, it's the best, you have to try it. They use all local ingredients" some lady behind me responds.
"Your sister would love this" I opine in the handcrafted clothing store.
"She could spend the afternoon here, the clothes are so unique" is the reply from the cashier whom I would have sworn was preoccupied reading her book.

I see a bewildered young man in the floral shoppe. He can't decide on the red roses or the yellow roses for his girlfriend on Valentines Day. "Get her an orchid instead", I offer without being asked. And I realize, I am home at last.