The Mad Poller What Polls at Midnight (maeincarnate) wrote,
The Mad Poller What Polls at Midnight

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Zipperneck: Initial Public Offering

This past weekend, my brother and I got a table at a local flea market to sell our wares (he designs a line of baseball caps). We had intended to get a spot at Eastern Market, the bigdog of flea markets in the DC area.

Stunted by the lack of online registration, we missed the deadline for last Sunday with the Eastern Market folks. A guy called me anyway, and explained that even had we gotten our registration in on time, it wasn't really a reservation but a spot on the waiting list. 100% of their booths are sold out 100% of the time, so any newcomer or part-timer needs to just hope someone cancels for the day or pulls a no-show. Getting your "reservation" in just assures you a spot on the waiting list, and anyone is welcome to just show up at 7am on a Sunday morning and put themselves on the end of the list, shove their thumb up their ass and hope. Needless to say, eff that.

We tried to get into another one in Arlington, but they never called us back, so we went to one in Fairfax that a gal at work told me about. She warned it was a little low-rent, but then again, so was the booth price, and we figured we had to start somewhere rather than lose momentum.

Unfortunately, it was a bust. Through no fault of our own; it just wasn't the right venue for us. Mike figured other than the guy selling used TVs, my jewelery was probably the most expensive stuff at the entire flea market, and our table was right next to a lady who had thrown a tarp on the ground and spread some clothes on it that looked like she had taken out of the Goodwill box.

The positives that came out of it were that we learned how easy it was to get set up and how good everything looked on our displays. And even though my stuff was out of the price range for the clientele, it was nevertheless appreciated. I don't know if I'd even had to have any knowledge of Spanish to know how much this one girl in particular loved my stuff. After unsuccessfully trying to bargain a pantsuit down from $4 to $1, She was cooing over every piece, pulling her friend over, and pointing and squealing over them all like it was the Tiffany counter. Which while really complimentary, it was also kind of touching and sad.

I guess it wasn't a total wash: Mike found some rare NES games, and the guy a few tables over who came by and chatted with us a couple of times gave me a pink sequined belt for good luck.

Tags: zipperneck

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