This week me and my friend did the markets and got a really crap spot and got just enough money back to pay for the stall. So in effect, we went to the market to give a few things we have sweated over away. We definitely went to the wrong market. So hard to sell handmade little teddies and other gems to VB t-shirt wearing, pluto pup with sauce eating punters. Those that did visit our stall said we were the best stall there, but alas they had no money and there were no ATM machines about, me and my friend felt like kicking these people as they whined 'Will you be back next week?' It's a hard slog, but also really satisfying when someone picks up something you've made and they love it.
Me and my friend T have been doing the markets for a few months now and are feeling very much part of what we call 'the carni crowd'. Although we like to distance ourselves from most of these social misfits, in fact, we are very much part of this odd-bod crowd.
One of our favourite (or should I say more successful) markets has the most bizarre stall holders. Most smoke, which I understand to a certain degree, as this particular market has a faint and not so faint at times cat piss smell. By 8.30-9.00 am hot chips are the order of the day, the smell is particularly off putting as it bravely competes with ciggie smoke and cat piss.
After bitching for many Sundays about this foul hot chip in the morning practice, me and T joined the ferals and got a sausage roll with sauce before 9am. Much fouler in fact than hot chips, sausage rolls really are a faux food, let's not even pretend. I swear karma went around that day and our previous bitching came back, at least to me, to bite me in the arse. On this particular day we got a spot on a rather big slope. Already having warned T I haven't got the best balance I sat down on my grounded picnic chair ready for the day. T set off to get the sausos. When she returned we hooked in and then just as the sun caught my eye I over balanced and went for a roll down the hill with sauso held high and sauce thrown into my eyes. I will never eat another sauso again. T and I were in hysterics and neither of us could help me get out of the dirt, thankfully a hot chip eating, smoking stall owner picked me and dusted me off. Thank you carni crowd one and all.
Me and my friend T have been doing the markets for a few months now and are feeling very much part of what we call 'the carni crowd'. Although we like to distance ourselves from most of these social misfits, in fact, we are very much part of this odd-bod crowd.
One of our favourite (or should I say more successful) markets has the most bizarre stall holders. Most smoke, which I understand to a certain degree, as this particular market has a faint and not so faint at times cat piss smell. By 8.30-9.00 am hot chips are the order of the day, the smell is particularly off putting as it bravely competes with ciggie smoke and cat piss.
After bitching for many Sundays about this foul hot chip in the morning practice, me and T joined the ferals and got a sausage roll with sauce before 9am. Much fouler in fact than hot chips, sausage rolls really are a faux food, let's not even pretend. I swear karma went around that day and our previous bitching came back, at least to me, to bite me in the arse. On this particular day we got a spot on a rather big slope. Already having warned T I haven't got the best balance I sat down on my grounded picnic chair ready for the day. T set off to get the sausos. When she returned we hooked in and then just as the sun caught my eye I over balanced and went for a roll down the hill with sauso held high and sauce thrown into my eyes. I will never eat another sauso again. T and I were in hysterics and neither of us could help me get out of the dirt, thankfully a hot chip eating, smoking stall owner picked me and dusted me off. Thank you carni crowd one and all.
