Craft Show

"Where have you been man?"
"Crafting and stuff. You know."
"Hum, no. No I have no idea what you mean. What the hell is 'crafting'"
"You know, crafting and beading and stuff. You know making stuff."
"Like toaster doilies?"
"See I told you, man. You know.."

So I've been a little busy. I was invited to a crafts fair last weekend. Many of you out there just glazed over. You're comatose, staring blankly at the screen right now.

"He doesn't post for almost 2 months and then when we crave a geeky editorial we get 'crafts and beading?'"

Yeah, I know. I'm sorry. Bear with me. So when I'm not geeking out I'm woodworking in the garage. I make pens, bottle stoppers, stuff like that. I sell them in local stores, to help outfit my workshop and desktop. Keep them in the upgrades that they have become accustom. So someone saw my turned trinkets and invited me to a crafts fair.

So I spend like 6 weeks in the shop making pens, bottle stoppers, pendants and mushrooms. I was crazy! I was like the sap and wood chips king.

"Peter!"
"Yes?"
"Why are there wood chips all over the bathroom floor?"
"Weird. I dunno, must have been the kids."
"And in the kitchen, living room and our master bedroom closet?"

Anyway I setup my display on Friday and on Saturday I was required to work the show for 3 hours. Since I was the newbie, some of these ladies had been attending this show for a decade, and a nasty man (one of only two men there) I wasn't given much responsibility.

I was the official basket hander. That's right. Basket hander. I also amended greeter onto that prestigious position.

"Good morning. (SMILE) Basket?"
"Thanks"
"Good morning. (SMILE) Basket?"
"I'm just looking"
"Good morning. (SMILE) Basket?"
"oh... I suppose"
"Good morning. (SMILE) Basket?"
"Can I get a blue one?"

Yep. That was my life on Saturday morning. Saying good morning, and handing out and collecting fancy plastic shopping baskets for little old ladies, bedazzled females and the row of sulking men filing behind them wearing the face I was eager to sport. Instead I was stuck grinning like a school boy and commenting on what lovely finds where inside.

"What a darling mouse. knit?"
"Crochet."
"Of course!"

I was suppose to be relieved at 12:00 but my replacement didn't arrive until 1:30. So I think I said those words about 500 times. No joke. We were crazy packed. When I did get relieved the person said,

"Is that all? That's an easy job."
"Well, I am just a man you know."

She nodded in understanding and I walked away. Sore from standing and with a stupid grin that would take me most of the day to undo.