Roll up! Roll up! Not YOU!

Did another stall on Saturday. It was one of those rainy, blustery days when you nip out quick for essentials then dash back in to eat chocolate in front of the telly – not the best day to try to sell flowers, not when you’re competing with the first day of the Premiership and a blistering Olympics. Things were quiet (although the man on the meat stall behind me was so busy he’d no doubt taken a grand before I’d even set up). The first hour was like one of those painful teenage discos when no-one asks you to dance. I sat there like a lemon, meekly smiling at every passer-by, telling myself that it was fine and in no way a reflection of my popularity, that I wasn’t really here to sell anyway, just doing it for the practice.

Gradually people did start to trickle over, but I think my attempts at looking too cool to care if I sold anything were a tad too convincing – they were just coming over for a chat. One thing about flowers – nearly everyone who passes smiles. Some point out a particular flower and mutter to their companions how beautiful it is. Some dare to make eye contact and tell me how lovely the flowers look. Some stop and plan their wedding bouquets before telling me they’re not getting married for another couple of years. The gardeners stop to chat, wondering how big my cutting patch is, where I get my seed, whether the green amaranthus is  different to the red or just at an earlier stage. Some go through every flower – What is it? How long will it last? Does it self-seed – before departing ten minutes later with a cheery wave and an “Oh, no! I never buy flowers – got a garden full of my own!” 

But the worst are the pensioners. They’ve lived in the town all their lives,  know everybody, are out to chat  and are completely oblivious to the fact that there are OTHER PEOPLE IN THE WORLD! They stand RIGHT in front of the stall, blissfully unaware they are a) blocking the path, b) completely obliterating my stall and c) stopping anyone valiant enough to get past the first two obstacles from getting anywhere near the flowers.

Still, they soon got the message when I decided the canopy needed emptying of the rainwater that had built up…