The Candy Man Can.

9 Mar

Today was the third weekend in a row that I worked at Bartle Hall for the Mid-America Boat & RV Show, aka “Freak Show in Kansas City.” Since Fridays are slower than Michael Moore running the mile in PE, I find myself just wanting to stuff my face with food simply for entertainment. After putting myself through the torture of consuming that six dollar “cheeseburger” last weekend and not being able to digest anything for the 48 hours following, I had learned my lesson. Instead, I decided that I would load myself up with suckers to entertain myself for the day.

En route to the show, I swung by Quik Trip to raid their candy aisle. The great thing about getting Blow Pops in Quik Trip is that they have them for sale individually in a giant box for like ten cents apiece. This is great for a few reasons. 1) It’s cheaper than a BJ from Winona Ryder after she wrecked her career, and 2) I can cherry pick. Literally. I can pick out all the cherry flavored suckers, which is the only flavor I like. I picked out at least 24 cherry Blow Pops and waddled up to the counter, balancing them in my palms like a house of cards. The cashier looked at me with a queer eye. “Uh…it’s my friend’s birthday. She only likes the cherry flavored Blow Pops,” I lied. Satisfied with my answer, the girl rang up my order. $2.09. Yesss.

Anyway, between the hours of 1 pm and 8 pm, I consumed between 10 and 12 Blow Pops. Do I regret it? Sort of. My teeth are probably going to rot out of my mouth and I’ll start to look like Austin Powers. Next, my mouth is more raw than WWE. I feel like I ate a box of tacks for lunch.

And dinner.

Will I ever recover? Maybe, if I give myself a chance to. I’ve still got a good 15 suckers left in my purse though, and another full day at the show, so we’ll see.

Maybe I’ll “turn into a Blow-Pop!” (Gay.)

The only downside about delicious Charms Blow Pops is that the gum’s flavor lasts only about as long as Steve Carell’s first time in 40 Year Old Virgin. Not ideal.

With that being said, today was an incredibly slow day at the show. I have seen more people at a Michael Bolton concert. In 9 hours, I made only $43. I sold a table knife and a cheese knife. Business was booming. Not. There were the regular freaks out and about though, strolling on by with their handlebar mustaches, leather pants, hideous sweaters, and the occasional salt-n-pepper mullet. Fridays usually bring the people out of the woodwork who sit at home all day every day, reading the paper. They find out about events such as shows at the convention center, so they crawl out of their caves to come check out the action. Buying something never crosses their mind; they just come out to see what else has been invented since the last time they were out and discovered fire and the wheel. They always stagger around, wide-eyed, oogling at things with their mouths agape, like zombies.

The people I really hate though are the middle-aged men with mustaches who still talk about the Vietnam War, and always wear cowboy boots and baseball hats that say things like POW *Never Forgotten* and so on. These are the guys that wander by, eyeball our inventory, and then make a really stupid joke like, “Don’t make her mad, she’s got a bunch o’ KNIVES!!” and then laugh like hyenas as if it were the funniest thing ever said. Thanks grandpa, that’s only the 30th time I’ve heard that today. Move along.

Since we sell Cutco at our booth, naturally we supply a lot of fruits and vegetables (grapes, oranges, potatoes, carrots, etc.) at our table for people to cut up and try our the products. I had an old man wander up to our booth yesterday, stop in front of me, glance up, then glance down at the potatoes on the cutting board, look back up at me, poke the potato, and grumble, “Are these real?”


I looked at him for a moment before answering, wondering if this man had escaped from the nursing home earlier that morning. I furrowed my brow, talking myself out of calling this man out for the idiot that he clearly was, and answered, “……uh….yeah?” The man then continued to ramble about how he “raised a garden” and how he had potatoes, tomatoes, carrots, and so on. He droned on for at least four minutes, as I desperately looked to my left and right for someone who could distract me from him so I could find an escape route. Eventually he stumbled off to go stare at an artificial plant, probably questioning whether it too was real or not. What was this man trying to achieve? The booth was not about vegetables. It was about cutlery. Don’t waste my time, old man.

Well, I’m off to see Avatar in 3D, since apparently I am missing out according to everyone and their grandma who has seen it thirteen times already. Criticism later.

Jeremy: Is it creepy that my most played song on iTunes is a song called ‘Jeremy’ that is about a boy shooting up his school?
Me: Depends on who you ask.
Jeremy: I’m asking you.
Me: Oh. Then yes.
Jeremy: Okay well all I need to do is listen to Party In The USA four more times for it to get the number one slot.
…don’t put that on Facebook.


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