Santa Fe, Part II
Wow, it seems like I was just telling this story. Of course, I was just telling this story, but I didn't tell all of it.
I left out the part about the shoe. I didn't say anything about the knitting needle rep. And the young girl outside the restroom.
I think I'm going to start with the shoe story. A couple of years back I had a problem with blood clots in my legs and feet. The doctors tell me they have it under control, so go on with your life. As a result of this health dilemma, I have little or no feeling in the bottoms of my feet. I know, this sounds great to me, also. I can walk barefoot on hot coals. I can walk barefoot in deep snow. I can even walk across broken glass if I ever get a chance to be in a Die Hard movie with that Willis guy.
Even though I can do all these things, without shoes, I typically wear shoes Against Elaine's advice, I typically wear Wally World's version of Frocs. Elaine wants me to wear shoes that tie with thick soles and leather tops and sides. I wear Frocs with socks, and without socks depending on my mood. I wear a pair of Frocs until I literally wear away the sole.
I brought two pairs of shoes to Santa Fe, my favorite gray Frocs, and a pair of leather shoes. Saturday, the first morning of the festival, I chose to wear my Frocs with a pair of striped socks. Not socks that were knitted with self-striping yarn that I personally dyed myself. Just a pair of striped socks.
I was enjoying the festival, watching people, going to the coffee cart, peeking into the other vendor's booths, and even checking out the bathroom conditions. After a while, I was with Elaine in our booth. She was entertaining a few customers, and I was just hanging out. I noticed one of the customers was looking at my shoe. Did you notice I said shoe? I was only wearing one. Somewhere I had walked right out of my shoe. Luckily, I still had one, if I needed to I could have hopped until I could get back to the motel for my other shoes. Or, I could retrace my steps at the festival and try to find my Froc. I went to Lost and Found, prescription glasses, and three gloves, but no Froc. I went to the coffee cart, but no Froc. Restroom, but no Froc.
My Froc was resting comfortably in the back of our truck. I must have lost it while unloading things from the back of the truck. I outsmarted it after that. I hooked up the straps on the back of the shoe.
I mentioned I looked in the restroom. Oddly enough there was a young teen-aged girl selling sodas and candy bars right outside of the men's restroom. I mean right outside. She smiled as I went in and she smiled as I came out. There were other restrooms, but this one was closest to our booth.
Late in the afternoon (wearing not one but two shoes) I stopped by that restroom to see if I had lost anything in there. The teen smiled as I went in. As I came out she talked.
Teen: You always walk by, but you never buy anything.
Me: Excuse me?
Teen: You never buy anything.
Me: You want me to buy something?
Teen: It would be nice
Me: OK, Who gets the money, you?
Teen: No, MAVWA (Mountain and Valley Wool Association) gets the money
Me; MAVWA already has a lot of my money just paying the fees just to be here, but how much is a can of soda?
Me: OK, I will take a can of Coke, but we are going to do it my way.
Teen: I am out of Coke, I have Dr. Pepper
Me: OK, Dr. Pepper (yuck) I'm giving you $4.00, you give MAVWA $3.00 and you put $1.00 in your pocket
She smiled and put the dollar in her pocket. That kid sat outside that restroom all day. I hope she made more than a dollar.
In our brick-and-mortar store, we sold one brand of needles. I don't know why, Elaine and Ivy thought they were the best for the money and possibly the simply the best. Elaine and Ivy are both better knitters than I am, so who am I to argue? Ivy bought the needles from the manufacturer by the hundreds and sold them in the store.
She had just placed an order before the pin-headed governor declared selling knitting needles could/will spread the dreaded beervirus and forced all stores like ours to close. We have been selling those needles online since but not at the same rate as the brick-and-mortar.
Elaine and I decided to take the needles to Santa Fe, display, and all. It was windy the night before the festival opened. At some point during the night, the needle display blew over, sending the display to the ground, mixing all the needle sizes and kinds. Some of the other vendors showed some amusement and no one offered to help. I think I had both shoes at this time. I painstakingly stood the display and started sorting needles. Elaine said to stop, but by gosh when I set my mind to a task (and I can't find a reason to stop) I complete the task. We sold needles, lots of them.
Ironically, the sales rep for the very needles we were selling came into our booth. She introduced herself, gushed over my handbuilt display, and photographed it, all before inviting us to bring our display to a show in California. Sadly, I am allergic to California.
If you didn't read what I wrote Wednesday, it might behoove you to do so, It might help you understand today's jibberish. Love ya, God Bless, Buy yarn (and needles)
Our crazy lives!