Monday, 2 May 2016

PART ONE - The Halifax Crafters Market/If this was an album dropping, it would be called "I'm Getting On The Horn"...

I made fun of BeyoncĂ© yesterday on Facebook and everyone's mad at me. ANYWAY... if you were in the city this weekend, you probably took a bunch of fliff-notes out of your bank account and stopped into the Halifax Crafters Market. The Halifax Crafters Market is where (mostly) way too talented people try to cash in their brainchildren for (mostly) way too few dollars. That's right. There were some D-E-A-L-S carving out property at this little pop-up fair. I am talking, of course, about cousin Rachael's coloring books (which are basically being given away for 15$), as well as her original hand-painted totes, apparel, greeting cards, and prints. What I am not, I repeat, not talking about the five-dollar cup of lemonade my "hangover self" (who always gold-digs my "regular self") forced me into buying. Sadly, not at all

Before you start asking yourself what my problem is with lemonade everything, please keep in mind I'm not trying to wage war on the cool cats (How does the old saying go? "Every time someone says 'I don't believe in hipsters' somebody sends back a fish taco at Lion and Bright"?). We all know you can't please everyone, and what is perhaps even more important to remember is that everyone can't please me. It's not anyone's fault, except probably mine, so offense need not be taken. On that note...

$2.00 too many...

I once complained (via email) to Maynards about a 
package of Sour Patch Kids I bought in the New Orleans Airport. As I pounded away on my keyboard, I discussed how my candies seemed "damp" and that it "didn't matter if they only cost a dollar" because "it wasn't about the price, it was about standards." Although I am sure that statement rings true for a lot of people, it doesn't for me. I polished off the whole bag sour-y sweetness before I could even hit send. Because of course I was still going to eat them, a little wet around the edges or not. Standards, As if. The truth is it's always about the money and within two weeks I had a cheque in the mail for a cool $1.49. Cha-ching. 

The point of my story is to demonstrate my history of being "cost sensitive". Five dollars for a cup of lemonade is too much. I should have just asked for the lemons instead. It may not have necessarily been more "bang for my buck", but at least it would have been "bang". I had to play along, though. The dog and pony act had me right where they wanted me and they knew it. Must've been my eyeballs doing their best impression of really thirsty red grapes that gave me away, but, if wasn't those two face raisins, then it had to have been the smell of last night's booze naturally off-gassing from my pores. Either way, they were waving liquids around in front of a vulnerable Saturday morning liquor zombie, so obviously they had my attention (which gives me an idea for an alternative album name: "Desperation Hydration: Struggles of a Waterless Parched Person").

Becky with the good hair...

They had some choices in the "flavor" department, so I decided to go with "SeaBerry" (or as I like to refer to it now, "Really?"). I watched one of the gals pump a squirt (ew - "pump a squirt" - no!) into my cup and then start cranking on the old-school-machine-squasher. Judging from the progress they weren't making, it was clear that some sort of short-cut would need to be taken soon, otherwise, I would have had to go back the following day to collect my drink. And take a short cut they did, because after about the second lemon they began topping off filling up my bevvie with water. A lot of it. 

All that water got me thinking: What am I paying for? The manual labor? The physical exertion of bringing the arm upwards and downwards for a maximum of twice times? I felt like some fool throwing bills around so two roommates could make money while they figure out how their hilariously expensive and so obviously unnecessary 16-piece vegan-metal hand-juicer works. (#FiveDollarsFiveDollarsFiveDollars) 

Watching them reminded me of when I was a teenager and used to carry around a little lantern with a lit candle inside to "get around in the dark". In my house. I could have turned on the lights, but I wanted to use the lantern because I thought it was cool, and even more so because I wanted everyone else to think it was cool. They didn't, and I retired that habit fairly quickly once I realized it wasn't catching on. It wasn't very practical anyway, ya know, and neither is the jig they pulled down at the Crafters Market. And on top of the "Why even?"-ness of it all, I just realized while writing this that lemonade isn't even a craft! It had about as much business being there as I have in complaining online about something I actually enjoyed - none! Jokes on me, though, because all arbitrary and unasked-for observations aside, I did buy the lemonade. And that can only mean one thing - the hipsters won Saturday. 

This whole post is essentially just one long tug on a couple of strangers' chains and is built upon only two facts - one being that the lemonade was damn delicious and the second being that I am a cheapskate. Which is why I give the price of the thirst quencher a 3/Harvey's ("three" being the amount of loonies I believe it should have cost) and the taste a 9/Harvey's because I love lemonade. I'm serious. I love it.

This isn't the end...

I have more on my experience at the HFX Crafters Market coming up later tonight, (#cleanspoons and #soap), so prepare for my usual flooding of your newsfeeds! And remember I am still campaigning for me, myself and I.  If you can, please share this link! If you want, please follow me on Twitter! And, if you haven't already, like my page on Facebook! 

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