Y'all. I am on day 3 of the carnie job and I am Ti-urd. It has been wild. First of all, let me say this: the State Fair of Texas? It is big. It's big. It's just big. And people LOVE it. They get so excited about it. All of the people I have met, from the fellow employees of the fair to the visitors to the random people on the train going to and from the fairgrounds, have been so unusually friendly. I mean friendly even for Dallas people, who are normally pretty cordial to begin with.
And y'all, they are CHATTY. People just want to talk to me all day long and tell me stories. These chatty people are everywhere. What is with these people? They just talk and talk and talk. I guess I've been an isolated stay-at-home mom for too long, but I'm just overwhelmed by all the talking and all the friendliness. People stand at my booth and tell me about their fight with cancer and their successful weight loss and their former steroid use and their thoughts on Texas A&M's quarterback and their walk with Jesus and their traditional State Fair Opening Day Matching T-shirts and where to get the best corn dog...it just goes on and on all day long.
Now so far, very few of these chatty people have actually bought things from me, but I'm working on my sales technique. It's weak, to say the least. Let's say it's very weak. I'm still learning.
Another job perk: I sit next to a very large 'before and after' poster of some women who have used the stretch mark cream and it basically just shows women's bellies covered in stretch marks (not pretty) and then their very much improved bellies eight weeks later. (P.S. This stuff really does work, but it costs $59, like for a month's supply, and it's been a little tough to sell, have I mentioned that?)
Anyway, one unintended consequence of sitting next to this lovely poster is that people walk by, see the poster, look at me, look back at the poster, and do one of the following:
1. Recoil in horror (usually teenagers and single guys)
2. Ask me if that is me in the photo. (usually older men)
3. Lift their shirts and reveal giant beer bellies and ask me if I can improve that. (usually guys who have had a few beers)
4. Start tugging on their wife's sleeve and saying, "Honey, let's check this out!"
5. Glare at husbands who have just called them out in public for having stretch marks.
6. Nod knowingly at the photos with a look of recognition on their faces, and then come over and start asking me questions.
The #6 people are the only ones to whom I can really sell anything. I'm still trying to figure out how to sell to the men pushing strollers whose expression says they really want to stop but they don't dare. Maybe I'll just start slipping brochures into their diaper bags when their wives aren't looking.
So anyway, I'm too tired to finish this properly. I'll have more stories later and I hope to sneak my camera out there sometime this week. I know you're dying to see that poster.
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