Peanut Gallery

There's no business . . .
Like SHOW business . . .
Like no business I know . . .

If any of you work in retail, this will not be new to you. Or just work with the public in general, in any capacity. Key word: the public. People. Nuts.

Assorted comments heard from said public during the last coupla days (yes, at my booth, where I sell soap):

"What is that? A washcloth? What do you do with that?"

"Are you selling cheese?"

"Is this a spice shop?"

"What are these for? What do you do with these?"

"I'm tired of lavender -- everything is lavender."

"Is that all you have? Lavender?"

"That would make a great drink -- with a shot of tequila."

"Oh My GOD -- that blew my head open, like disinfectant!"

"Do you know where I can find that thing to put hot rollers in? I got one before -- it's teflon."

"Where do you use this 'foot balm'?"

And the ubiquitous -- "Breakfast soap? Does it smell like bacon and eggs?"

There are a million more. Some really sweet and adorable. Many very complimentary. Some just more random. But my feet are swollen stumps. My face is chapped. The slice of bacon and a stale roll I had for dinner is starting to repeat. What? The fridge is SAD, y'all!

I sold out of almost everything today and have so much to do before I leave tomorrow. And right now? I must collapse. Dead. And hope that I can wake up early enough to be productive at the crack of dawn, or before that, while the birds are still dreaming of worms -- or I'll be selling my tablecloths and hot air tomorrow.