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My Profile
Fairytales for a Practical Princess - 2008-11-30
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7:09 p.m. - 2008-08-22
Market # 14 … I rock!!! Yesterday at the farm while I was packaging fudge I said to GBW that I was powering up. The shark was in the water, baby. Told her I was going to kick farmer's market ass today. I could feel it sizzling along my nerve endings. I won't scuff my toe and blush and pretend I'm all "Aw shucks" about what I do, I know I'm good at it. I am the proverbial seller of refrigerators to Eskimos. All the time. Not a prob. But sometimes, these sizzling times, I become fucking irresistible and yesterday I could feel one of those surges building. Even just packaging I was rockin' it. One hundred and seventeen chevre logs, nine pots of fromage blanc, and 12lbs of fudge, kiddos. All cut, scooped, weighed, rolled, seasoned, sorted, packaged and labeled. The feta hadn't sweated completely yet and the dark chocolate fudge had just been poured otherwise I would have knocked those out too and Herself could have had a bit of lie-in this morning, but as she says, "It is what it is." I did suggest she stuff the coolers to the gills because she sure as hell wasn't going to be bringing any of it back home. I made good on what I said. Da shit was gone by day's end. Even before day's end, actually. The majority of it was gone by 3:00 and by the time GBW rolled it at 4:20 there was exactly ONE pot of fromage left to sell. (The very last, last one was for me.) Today I could do no wrong. As different varieties of cheese sold out I'd just offer something else and BAM! The sale was made. Not one single person whined, cried or said, "No thanks." I told them what they needed to buy and they bought. And bought. And bought. Damn happy about their purchases too. Nobody went away disappointed or feeling hustled. Told you I was irresistible today. Mick and Wolf came by to bring me lunch and stayed for a while. Wolf went off begging (as market urchins do, the vendors' kids are shameless about hitting the other vendors up for treats) and Mick sat back and watched me sell. In the brief lulls between customers he'd marvel and grin. "Baby, you are something else! How do you do that?" I batted my eyes at him and said, "Talent. Sheer genius and heaps of talent." Talent is part of it. Back in my full-time sharking days I used to worry about that. Being good at selling things seemed so…so…skeezy. Snake oily, you know? There is always the whiff of underhandedness about being a seller of things. Being a good, no, a great salesperson made me wonder about my morals. But as time went on I knew myself to be honest. I never lied about what I was selling. I never had to. If I like what I'm selling then helping folks see the merits of my product is easy. Enthusiasm is contagious. So is pleasure. I am genuine. I am genuinely pleased to offer GBW's wares. I know they are made with love. I know they taste great. I know the people buying the stuff will eat it with pleasure. There is nothing skeezy or underhanded about being enthusiastic and helpful. Nor is being charming a crime. And charming I am. Charming is something I come by naturally. I do not work at being charming. Again this was something I used to worry about. I don't anymore. Being charming isn't anything bad. There are people out there who can solve a Rubik's cube in nano-seconds. This is something they're just inherently good at. Do Rubik's cube whiz kids apologize for being good at solving them? No. They enter contests, make bar bets, and generally use their odd gift to their advantage. And nobody says, "Oh gross! What a cretin! He can solve Rubik's cubes too fast!" So. To that end I am a charm whiz kid and make no apologies about using this quirky charm of mine to my advantage. And GBW's advantage. Perhaps in a different market setting my easy-going good humor might be overkill but it's dead on for Podunkville's farmers' market. Today I proved it by selling every damn thing GBW had stuffed into the coolers and market baskets. The soap sold. The honey sold. The pesto sold. The fudge sold. And my sweet Lord, the cheese sold! Perhaps when market season is over I shall investigate other venues where my salesmanship and charm can be put to profitable use. For now though I am enjoying the heck out of market Fridays. My friend gets an extra day with her daughter and to maybe think a complete thought and return some phone calls and I get to flex a skill I delight in using and make some dough for GBW out in the bright sunshine and harmonious bustle of the Podunkville farmers' market.
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