The forageSF underground market was a definite success on Saturday. Thanks so much to those of you who came out to support me, Jess and Sean for being my booth bitches, and the family Sklad for providing so many things I needed to actually set up my stand.
The deets:
We got to Oakland after a sweet dry-ice run to Bayshore and after Jess took a wee nap while I hauled literally hundreds of pops down three flights of stairs to monstrous cooler Sklad provided. I mean, this cooler was large enough to be my next apartment, probably the one I’ll live in after I decide to become a full-time Popsiclist. But I digress. It was hot as balls in Oakland and I stood trying to create shade for said cooler while I yelled at it “you better stay frozen in there!” at the pops. I got the first crazypants award at the fair, which I thought the guy with suspenders really deserved. After seriously micro-managing Jessica’s sign-making (I knew I couldn’t trust her after she purchased a babyshit-colored fanny pack as our cash box), we were ready to go. It was 5pm! It was hot! The world was ready for pops!
Business for the first hour or so was pretty slow. We got a lot of “I want something savory first, and then I’ll come back.” I totally get that, and to their credit, a lot of them did actually come back. Including a person who still bought a pop even after I accused him of cheating on his taxes and murdering a hobo. How’s that for salesmanship?? We also got a lot of, “You know that ‘pop’ is what some people call ‘soda,’ right?” Well, lady, I’M THOSE PEOPLE so I can understand the confusion. Except when there is a picture of a “popsicle” and a flavor like cookies and cream. Sheesh.
My misanthropy aside, we met some great people. First, a guy who organizes an event called Dirty Dishes DJ’s who thinks pops might be right for an upcoming event – that’s right, I’m already working on my next gig! Second, a guy who talked to us about the names of the flavors (i.e.: Teddy bear Massacre) and stated, “I love pot smokers.” Quite the assumption. Quite. Third, a small black child (you know I love those) who freaked, literally FREAKED, about the Sir Berry Basil. “It tastes LIKE REAL STRAWBERRIES.” Abby: “That’s because it’s made with real strawberries.” Kid: “But it tastes like REAL STRAWBERRIES.” Rinse and repeat. Lots of lovely people. Oh! And I even had someone say that they read about my pops. Commence me shitting myself with glee.
So bottom line, I sold a good deal of pops. I got a lot of super positive feedback on the flavors. I even made a little bit of money and didn’t eat all my profits like the last time I worked at a craft fair with mom making dog collars. Let’s hope they will let me back in to the next SF market and that if I just casually start selling out of a cooler in Dolores Park, that I don’t get arrested. Mmmmmmkay?
My prezzzesh coveragezzzz
