For those of you who don’t know, I sell Snarky Cards: Brutally Honest Greeting Cards. Today I had a show at the Sellwood Masonic Lodge. And by show I mean “Craft Show”. You never know what you’re going to get at a Craft Show. Sometimes I find lots of people who love my cards. But Snarky Cards are blatant and for the most part, overtly sexual. So half the time I just get a lot of blank looks from families who are equal parts annoyed and puzzled by The Innapropriate Girl.
I was excited about this show because it was in a Masonic Lodge. I figured, you know, even if the show was a bust, maybe we could still do some snooping and find out about this cult called “The Masons”. We did not find out the Masonic secrets. Yes, I could have sworn that I overheard someone say “Child Sacrifice” but I hadn’t had my coffee yet, so I’m not sure how dependable my evesdropping was. It did crack me up, though, as I headed towards the Expresso machine.
And I did come up with some pretty juicy new cards, thanks to the lot of dirty-minded-marrieds that were there. Sellwood is a family-oriented area of Portland. And because of the aforementioned family-setting, I had two amazing moments!
Moment #1: A cute 8 year old came over to my booth, to offer his help. “My Dad says I’m a better salesman than him.” He said with a knowing laugh. I nodded. I beleived him. He seemed to be defecting from his father’s booth and trying to branch out from mine. His ideas included: hiring him to sell my cards, and offering candy. I appreciated his ability to cold-call on a new potential employer. Then he started going through my cards. And it seemed like he was capable of reading most of them.
“So I told him he could read them but some of them have swears in them, so he needed to keep it our secret.” I told Lisa later at the bar. Her eyes widened. “You asked an elementary school kid to share a secret with you?” She shreiked. “That is so creepy! You are so creepy!” I shrugged. “I guess that’s why he wouldn’t shake on it.” Lisa shook her head, fearful as if I’d magically become a child molestor in front of her very eyes. “Someone clearly talked to him about Stranger-Danger. Good thing, too!” I looked at her thoughtfully. “Huh. Usually asking them to keep a secret is how I relate to kids. Kids and old people.” I said, interested at this new twist, where I’m creepier than I thought I was. She stared at me in horror, as I started giggling. I have become the scary ending to a childhood lesson.
Moment #2 A friendly soccer mom asked me to make a card for an old high school crush of hers. She described the situation in spurts out of the sides of her mouth, in a manner reminiscent of inmate talk, while her children flitted innocently around us. I created the card that said:
“It’s a good thing you’re so hot, otherwise your cunt-teasing would really piss me off.”
She read the card, and delightedly counted out her money. As we were saying our thank-you’s, her son carefully started pulling out all of the condoms that I usually keep at the bottom of my Snarky Card Bowl, mixed in with my business cards. “I’m trying to get people to have more sex.” I usually say brightly when anyone asks what they’re for. “Go ahead! Take one!” This usually gets me a laugh and helps people stay on target: Snarky Cards and Sex. He pulled out three condoms, without comment. And with each condom, he looked at me proudly, waiting for his praise. I didn’t know what to say, and his mother’s valient attempt to ignore him, while he was seeking admiration from me was starting to make us all a little uncomfortable. She yanked him away as I stuttered out “Good job! Thank you so much! You’re very good at finding birth controll! I’m so proud of you!”
I mean, he was working so hard at seperating out the condoms from the business cards. And it was a praiseworthy endeavor. However, he was six, so I couldn’t exactly tease him about handing me condoms. Unless I wanted to come off creepier than I already had.
So, in short, today we learned that when exposed to small children, I come off badly. Some might even say “Molest-y” Also: married people have dirtier sex lives than single people.
As a tribute to all children everywhere, and anyone who has ever been a child, I give you: Dad’s The Reason I Need Goddamn Therapy! I hope you enjoy it. That’ll teach hard-working Craft Dad’s to let their children wander over to my booth.