How I met Ted — part 1

From the logbook of a Snail

Two men were standing at the edge of the park as I pulled in with my big, heavy vehicle: probably other vendors. They looked at me while I turned the engine off and I tried to recognize Jesse in one of them. Nope, he’s not there. I wish I wasn’t by myself, this is my first time and I’m pretty tense.

I already feel vulnerable, like being naked in public. I’ll expose my creations and people will look at them, maybe touch them, then move on. I must stay strong and try to avoid hanging on subtle body language signs.

I also have no idea of what to do with the prices: I shouldn’t make them too low because I’d call myself cheap but also not too high because I’d be pretentious.

Here, two pictures of me naked

So there I am at the park waiting for Jesse the organizer with a few other vendors, and I’m so awkward that I try to start small talk with the guy next to me: -Are you selling? Is it your first time? -Oh cool, you sell honey? Is it your honey?

The guy hits me with a Clint Eastwood cigar gaze: -My honey? No, I’m stealing it. From nature.

A few big clouds are passing above us. It’ll better be sunny, I don’t have a tent and all my things are made of paper. I’m ready to let the sun bake me alive as long as it doesn’t rain.

Finally Jesse arrives and quickly starts to allocate the vendors: I get a spot under a tree. I start putting things together. Everyone has these big gazebos and huge tables and I look a bit clumsy, there in the corner with a little tiny table, but that’s ok, I’m gonna be the most humble and colorful vendor. I start feeling a bit of excitement. Look Nelson (BC), this is me!

Tininess

My neighbor is a dutch leather craftsman who gets his buyers with jokes, so before the market opens he tries one on me. Unfortunately it’s about Trump and I’m still tense, so everything he gets from me is an embarrassed giggle.

After a while visitors start coming, and I start selling a few stickers: I knew they were a good idea! I’ve spend a couple of hours the day before to make them one by one, making sure they were all unique and different. Then the dutch fellow gives a look to them and very innocently states: -Nice, but I don’t understand: it says “not on a hurry” but it should be “not in a hurry”

I felt my face going red and all I wanted to say was -Ok, I’m Italian, ok? You shut up you Dutch!

I stood silent. Well, I guess it’s too late to change them. I realized that all the people who saw the stickers probably felt too bad to tell me, so I decided to thank him for letting me know.

The troubled stickers

At the end of the day I didn’t sell much, but I was so scared about being judged that I felt satisfied even with the few dollars I made, mainly selling those unfortunate stickers.

Finally I reloaded my colorful van and left, thinking that this was just the beginning of my wonderful carreer as a craft woman. Sooner or later I’ll make it!

I’d like to thank all the people who bought my things at the market in Nelson the 17th of June, and especially the people who bought my stickers. They’ll bring you good luck, I promise!

Read How I met Ted — part 2

Like what you read? Give Margherita Pletti a round of applause.

From a quick cheer to a standing ovation, clap to show how much you enjoyed this story.