I walked down to the end of my street this morning to see if I could sell some of my greeting cards. There's a new farmers' market there on Saturdays in Marc's parking lot. I had just missed the market the week before, but sold some cards sitting on a bench there as they were tearing down.
I'd been looking forward to this all week. The idea of being outdoors and selling my own product directly to the public was very appealing. If it worked; if i had any success at all, I could see myself really getting into it.
When I got there, I was finishing up a can of Diet Dr Pepper. I stood in the shade and studied the situation. There was nowhere really to sit, but I wanted to get a place in the shade, near, but not directly in the market. I know from having been a vendor at markets in the past that these people pay for their spots. It is un-cool to compete or otherwise interfere in their commerce. I settled on a spot under a tree, on the curb / sidewalk at the edge of the parking lot. I noticed there were no other vendors selling paper goods, so I felt comfortable being there. I wouldn't be stepping on anyone's toes.
To digress briefly; being back in Lakewood has been very healing. I avoid driving when possible. I walk the streets I walked in my youth, take the same shortcuts, and inventory what is new and what's still the same. I know this place like I know my hands. It's not just familiarity; it is Home.
So I'm feeling really good. There aren't a lot of shoppers, but it's okay for a new, small market. I talk to a few people, smile at shoppers, and say, "These are Greeting Cards I make," to anyone who looks for more than a second.
My Little Set Up
I start getting a weird vibe from this one woman, (Green Shirt.) I try to make eye contact and smile, but she seems to be purposely avoiding looking at me, except for very quick glances. I get the feeling like she wants to say something to me, but doesn't. Or maybe it's just me. Maybe I'm projecting; I often can't tell.
Green Shirt
But no, I got it right. Green Shirt does come up to me a few minutes later, or rather, at me, with a determined stride. She does not introduce herself. She tells me that these people all pay for their places, and if I wanted to be a vendor there I could apply, cause it's not really fair that they all have to pay. She seems really tweaked. Again, I get the feeling there's more she wants to say, but she only repeats what she already said. It feels like she's frustrated, like I'm somehow not "getting it."
Normally I would engage more, introduce myself, talk about my art; but this is turning awkward, and I'm getting uncomfortable. I just say, "Yeah, I understand. Thanks. I might do that." And she walks away.
A short while later Green Shirt returns with another woman, (Tie-dye Dress.) Tie-dye does the talking this time. She also does not introduce herself. She hands me an application packet and basically reiterates what Green Shirt said, and with about the same amount of charm. I wonder for a moment if I'm somehow projecting a threatening aura. I know from experience women sometimes come at me with a combatively due to perceiving me as threatening. I don't see how though, in this instance. I'm dressed okay, clean shaven, relaxed, smiling, and there are people around, including some guys bigger than me. I don't get it.
Tie-Dye
So, I say thank you, I'll look it over, and roll it up and stick it in my back pocket.
They step away about 10 feet and start talking to a third woman. At this point I think it's over. They're not looking at ME anymore. They're chatting with their friend. I've got the application. They made their point. I go back to scanning the passersby for any glint of interest. I must have drifted deep into thought, because I was startled back into my surroundings when Green Shirt stepped into my line of sight and up in my face and asked, "Do you need a pen to fill out that application?"
Admittedly, I'm a bunt object. I chuckle under my breath as I realize where this is going. I say, "I'm not filling it out." Now, I could have said, "I'm not filling it out today." Or I could have suggested they let it slide for today, and I would decide one way or the other after getting my feet wet. After all I was already there, I wasn't taking up space, I wasn't competing with anyone. Indeed, I'd like to think I was bringing something of value to the party. But all I said was, "I'm not filling it out."
Then Tie-dye stepped up and said I had to pick up my things and leave. It was at this point I embraced my Inner Asshole. There was something very wrong going here. The aggressive, nasty stance made no sense. This was a tiny farmers market, just starting out. When you want something to flourish, you infuse it with good vibes, inviting energy, right? There are so many karma-positive ways they could have engaged me. It was baffling.
But on top of that, beyond that, I felt a geographical sense of outrage. This is my home. I was born two blocks to the east. My elementary school stands about 100 yards south, and the house I grew up in just on the other side of that. Pretty much on this exact spot is where my friend Tom and I went though the trash finding all the cool shit they threw out from the camera shop. And right over there where that guy is walking his dog is where we used to play basketball with the firemen before they tore this block apart and moved the firehouse up to Madison. My Grandma lived in one of the buildings they tore down to build this parking lot, along with houses I delivered papers to, and Ivan the hunchback's shoe repair shop.
Of course I couldn't have put all that into words at the time. I just knew something was very wrong. So, despite my knowing somewhere in the back of my mind that no good would come from butting heads, I said, "Oh, I'm not leaving." She didn't like that much, got a little flustered, and belabored her position. I asked her if she had the authority to throw me out. She mulled that a second and said, no, but she was sure she could find someone who did. I said fine, I would leave when the cops came and made me leave. Not that I thought they couldn't make good on the threat; I just wasn't gonna make it easy for them. I wasn't being dislocated without a fuss.
Anyway, the whole market thing had soured for me. I thought, at least the cops coming to boot me out would be interesting, and I'll have something to write about later. I started snapping pics.
After a bit a cop shows up. He talks with Green Shirt. They move away, out of earshot. Then he comes over and asked me what the deal is, and I explained my thoughts on the matter. He was real nice, and hung out until back-up arrived.
Cop #2 was less friendly; he had me pegged for a trouble maker from the get go.
He went and talked with the women.
When he came back he asked if I had a permit to sell stuff there, (nope,) then told me he was gonna write me up a citation for soliciting. He was in his car on the radio for about ten minutes, then came back and told me, it turns out, that he couldn't write me up for solicitation, that I was getting a break, but he would write me up for trespassing if I didn't split. I commenced to splitting, and while I packed my stuff we ended up having a very civil chat. Eventually, I think he got over seeing me as a trouble maker. I hope so.
I'm disappointed with the whole deal. It might have been cool to have a booth there. Darn. But when these strange karma vibe things happen, it’s usually for a reason. Maybe I wouldn’t jibe with some of these people under any circumstances. Who knows?
Me checking to see if I look threatening
