Death By Kleenex Box.

On Sunday Kate and I participated in an art/craft show held on the campus where I work. It's an annual event and the first time we've ever done it. I'm glad we did because it was nicely organized and very well attended. We made money and had a good day, despite feeling like we were in a terrarium. Somehow our tent was set up in exactly the wrong place in conjuction with the sun and wind, because we were baking all day. Ugh.

The day did not start auspiciously. We pulled up to the vendor lot and, behold! The Mailroom guy is moonlighting as the lot attendant. Sweeet. Jesus. As we're beginning to unpack my car, he walks over to me to impart some very important and life-saving information. Apparently, like a tissue box, the foam sun visor I have stowed on the ledge by the back window could be completely lethal in a car crash* and could trauma my head totally to death. I really wanted to point out the probability of head-trauma-death-by-car-crash would be taken care of by, oh, I don't know, the 60 pounds of metal TENT shoved in my back seat, but no no, Mailroom Guy, you're right. That piece of folded foam is certainly lethal. I shall move it posthaste.

The show set-up was fine and made more amusing by the complete lack of planning and preparation of the dude next to us, who was a little nuts, but in an endearing artist sort of way. He was still drilling and um, art-making well after the 11am start. But really, he was nothing compared to what we've dealt with in the past. Refreshing, even especially when compared to the Most Awkward Show Moment Ever.

This one requires a little bit of back story: Last spring we were recruited for a local yearly holiday show held by two women (I'll call them Virginia and Karen) who were best friends and ran a small craft-like business together. We were promised big money, but by the time the show rolled around they'd had a falling out and Virginia, who was ill, had backed out. Oy. It was a bad, bad weekend and not a great show (as detailed here). Karen said she probably wouldn't do it again. Great.

So there we are on Sunday selling our stuff when a weird, slightly familiar looking woman marches up and says hi. Then she barked,

"It's me, Karen. Are you doing the show this year??"

I replied,

"I don't know, are we?"

I mean, what the crap? We hadn't heard from her since December. She gives us a weird twisted look and snarked,

"You probably heard that Virginia died."

Uh.

Whoa.

No? How could we have? We don't KNOW HER. We never met her except when she gave us her card a year and a half ago. We both froze for a beat and then managed to stutter out our condolences. It was really uncomfortable and after a bit more weirdness, Karen went away. No WAY are we doing her show again.

Anyway, here are some pictures (click for larger versions).

This is the guy next door. I really liked his work and he was amusing if nothing else:

This is our booth:

booth's eye view:

This is my absolute favorite picture from the show. Originally I stalked him because I thought he was wearing an American Idol shirt. It wasn't until I got home and started uploading photos that I realized it was so, so much better than that (click through to Flickr to read it):

Right? That is just outstanding.

*Issue is debated here. This quote is my favorite: "...if he is not wearing seat belts or protected by an air bag, the driver is probably out through the windshield and smashing into the brick wall and wouldn't notice the tissue box."