Ca-Ching, Zap And Zing

My mind is so full of all things Sweet Baby K that I can barely hold a decent conversation.  This past weekend, I had two tradeshows - one big, one small, but both required similar amounts of prep work.  All I can say is thank god I thrive on being organized.  By the time the show on Sunday rolled around (only my third show in total), I was literally able to set-up and take down my table in under five minutes.  I packed all of my display products into their own containers, rather than having to dig through 15 different rubbermaid totes to grab one or two items from each.

Each of the shows were successes in their own ways.  On Saturday, there were 29 vendors in total so it drew a large crowd of people.  I sold a lot of goodies and handed out a ton of business cards.  The only downside of the day was the fact that the older lady at the table next to me kept stealing the people who were headed towards my table.  She'd yell at them to put their names in for a draw to win a massager that uses deep infrared heat that only a God like ours could create (or something along those lines).  She talked and talked and talked their ears off (and mine).  I can't fault her for being an aggressive saleswoman, but I'm thinking I might be able to sue her for electrocuting me.

Early in the day, after our tables were set up, she motioned me to come over and try this massaging chair thing.  I sat down and enjoyed about two seconds of massage before she plunked what looked like a weigh scale (complete with places to put your feet) down on my lap.  Given my OCD, I immediately asked her if people had put their feet on this thing.  Her response was to grab a couple of baby wipes (yah, that'll kill those germs!) and give it a mediocre scrub down.  My safety net was knowing my bottle of hand sanitizer was within arms reach and I could sanitize once this kooky demonstration was over.

Before I continue, I need to side track for a moment.  Since I stopped taking my anti-anxiety meds, I have been experiencing horrible withdrawals.  Throughout the day, it feels like I am being minutely electrocuted - zaps and zings that have a bit of kick to them. On top of this, I am also seeing flashes of light (like a camera going off or a light bulb burning out).  My psychiatrist is going to send me to S'toon for an EEG if they don't stop soon, but this is a whole other post.  Point being - I have a constant zapping sensation all day long.

So, there I'm sitting with this contraption on my lap and I've just placed my hands down onto it.  I had barely finished joking, "What?  Is this going to shock me?" when she said, "A little bit!" and ZAP!  She hits this button and this massive wave of electricity goes shooting up both arms.  Before I could pull my hands away, she hits the button again!  I pulled my hands away and said, "No! I can't do this!".  She started to say something else and I just walked back to my table.

I was vibrating both from anger and from the electrical shock - I felt like I was going to throw up.  Granted, she had no idea what my situation is, but still - she should have warned me before zapping me. I watched her do the exact same thing throughout the entire day - zapping people without giving them fair warning of what was about to happen.  If I EVER become that type of saleswoman who has to resort to tricking people into demonstrations, somebody please stop me.  Of course, given my inventory, the worst thing I could surprise someone with would be popping a Teething Bling into their mouth unexpectedly.