I was invited to sell my cards at a luxurious home boutique. I didn't want to do it, as I already knew my cards don't sell well at home boutiques. The organizer persuaded me by waving the entrance fee and allowed me to pay her a percentage of what I sold. The day before the sale, the organizer instructed me to set up my basket of hand-painted teacup cards on a long serving counter in the kitchen. I volunteered to help with the sale and would return the next day.
However, on the morning of the sale, my cards had been moved and other items took their place. I found my basket of cards moved to the breakfast table. They were sitting next to a large platter of cheese balls covered in nuts surrounded by crackers. I wasn't happy with their new placement but I didn't change it. I went elsewher to see how I might be helpful.
Returning to check on my cards I found they had been moved again. This time they were on the floor under the table and the cheese ball display was now spread across the entire table. With no one in sight, I gingerly shifted the cheese balls to one side and returned my basket to the table top, and looked for something else to do.
A second return to the breakfast room, I found my basket back on the floor and the cheese balls spread back across the table again. This time I less-gingerly moved the cheese balls and placed by basket back on the table wondering who the culprit was.
A third return I found my basket back on the floor and the cheese balls spread out across the table. Only this time an old woman with a grey-haired bun wound tightly on the top her head sat guarding the cheese balls.
“Are those your cheese balls?” I asked. “Yes, I make them all by hand.” She replied in a squeaky voice. After she told me how much effort she put into making each cheese ball and how she covered them in assorted nuts, I decided to leave my basket on the floor and give her the remaining time to sell her cheese. I thought, maybe this time next year I’ll be in 100 stores while she will still be at Home Sales selling her cheese.
I can’t tell you what happened to the cheese ball lady, but I am happy to report that my fleeting thought of being in 100 stores actually came true the following year.
And, NO! I don't sell my cards at home boutiques. Don't even try to persuade me.