What a market it was – again! Well, at least I didn’t die at the end this time.
Getting clever as I brought the stuff there already on Friday. I chose the same area (under the crane base with ball on it), and almost peacefully brought the two bakfiets loads.
The next morning I made haste to be there early, comfy and with a big coffee in my hand. I think I also hd breakfasgt it was calm and Epic. I arrived at the easy going eight, and started prepping the table.
Since I am talking about the market here the first time, I have to stop here and explain. Not so much my market past ( 🙂 or the drastic learning curve. More about how the market works… LET ME WRITE A SEPARATE POST ABOUT THAT BECAUSE I’M ON A ROLL….
So I arrive semi peaceful, and while setting up the table, not really rushing, kind of on purpose cause I wanted to avoid getting my LPs swarmed by the owners of the big Amsterdam shops as they usually do, and cause it was a lot of fun just to watch what’s up around me.
And lot of happening there was! The market is basically a bunch of large parking lots , with the tables forming long ass double rows, between which the çivilians are walking, and then wider interruption for two rows of cars of the sellers. At 6am, the organizers in their orange tops (not fluorescent road worker, but these dope hoodies in the Dutch orange) start lining up the cars in the order they get sent from the main gate. The sellers are pilling out of cars, shouting and clattering, and as the morning nears nine am, I get completely engulfed by it.
Plenty to do myself, staging, flipping LPs so that they are the right side forward, and a bit sorted by value. Got a big spanking by one civilian few markets back 🙂 You remember those spankings, trust me. Hanging racebikes, and deep down, down where heart meets dick, feeling the deep anticipation about my neighbors.
I had the ‘hoekkraam’, meaning I had an interruption next to my table for people to walk by, so theoretically I had only one neighbor table. As the car pulled up, the organizers inched it forward to make my space even though I only had a bakfiets (bless them), and these four girls spilled out. Sorting and organizing, I danced my way around the table and tried introducing myself. One heavy measuring look from each, one careful listen to my clumsy ass Dutch, and I was greeted with silence, the usual stare through, and I was discarded for the day – or so one thought 🙂
One of them was an Asian girl, with her perfect Dutch obviously born here, but hiding her foreingness by the weird yellow glasses, and generally trying too hard to please her white masters the whole day.
When this happened the first time – with the girls acting like that a couple of years back – I was shattered of course. Took me months to digest… But now I only smiled politely and went back to doing my thing.
Then there was a large bang from the table on my other side, and I saw a girl kneeling over pieces of a clothing stand, it obviously just fell apart on her.
There was no time for me to make any decent evaluation, the builder/guy kicked in, and I was on my knees next to this girl or lady, assembling the pipes together, realizing that they have the piece wrong way around, that they speak English, and that there is two of them. Whaaat?
But not time for all that, the market was unrolling and so was I.
// Let me stop here for a second, because this is the next writting session, and it is literally the perfect storm for me to write exactly what I feel right now (it is pouring outside, which is stopping me from jetting there to do my usual hectic day, I am stuck here in Zilla, by this laptop, with the slightly overwhelming feelings and emotions. I wana get this right.
/// The Shrodinger’s cat situation. Me being the cat of the experiment, experiencing the status of Neither. How do I know I am the cat? Feeling.
Sooo, how exactly did that day go, which brought me here, to Neither.
I went about my morning, totally in my market element. I simply love the energy, the encounters, and endure with slight pain all the little rejections, stinging like needles. Actually, to be bluntly honest, I kind of like those also 🙂
The girls next to me were absolute icebergs, and every time I tried to make contact I totally broke my teeth on them. Sooo, I ventured to the other table and saw that they have minty LPs on the table, all bands out of my league like A-Ha, Duran-Duran, and such.
And there and then I must have performed the first theatre performance, without knowing that I am performing… I started dealing with the initial Italian girl about the plates, but had no cash, and the banking app was not working. She was open and friendly and chatty, so I sank my teeth into her a bit, and she immediately threw up the boyfriend shield. Fair enough, wanna be friends and all that, but mainly want those LPs and that payment to be working… Grrr
We somehow exchange contact within the next hour, but I am busy, and the LP Sharks are at my table, and the racebikes are sticking out too much, and I didn’t unpack this yet, AND the fucking payment is still not going through! Let me go over there and check that they are still put aside for me. Yes, the Italian Girl has character among all the other cool stuff, and who is THAT?
I am standing in front of the table, and out of the blue is next to me this woman. One glance, I swear. One glance, and I knew that she is an Artist. I do not think she knows it, but Artist still. Obviously a fashion freak, with her outfit wildly splattered together, carrying a few new treasure raggs in hand.
I also knew that she is totally out of my league. Taller. Asian. Knockout. Too young. Too smart. Too open. NO CHANCE!
Fair enough, hi my name is Eddie, I sell LPs, let’s be friends forever, bla bla bla I gotta check my table (see some honeys there)…
The payment went through, and I got the LPs. Girls were chatty, so I loosened up and talked about leather and Jip’s Column, and about my ships. Just chatting and being friendly, and making the time pass.
I asked for the other girl’s Insta, and got declined. Weird… You are supposed to work in social media and branding. Ahaa, you are studying it ((do not even look at this girl anymore, Eddie)). What, you want my phone?
She took my phone, and punched in her contact, then called herself. And now we are in contact, she said. Whaaat?
It was nagging me a bit, but not much. Too busy, the traffic in front of table packed.
Do you have Michael Jackson? – Out of my league!
Do these lenses work? – Let me see – Well this one doesn’t!
Why doesn’t the racebike have tires? – They are too expensive!
With a corner of my eye, I kept coming back to that girl. How old could she be? 25. I told myself that, so I could justify continue looking at her. Might be less, might be more. The first paradox of our story, the first unknown. As soon as I find out for real, this story is over and this laptop is shut, because it is most likely less. I hope for more of couse
I hope a lot. Imagine stories as I would like them to be, not as they are…
Anywayzzz. I discard her in my mind, but keep looking. She is like a fairy in the forest, I swear. One minute there, supporting her friend, next minute chatting up the customer, then gone with the wind for more clothing, and what…. these opposite neighbor punk girls have cigarettes? Let’s go mooching…
MOOCHING!
Discard, must discard!
Busy busy busy. You want what? Good jazz? Here, this one. Ah just take it for Christ’s sake!
Best acting in the world is done when you do not know you are acting.
My table was setup as follows. A wall of boxes at customer’s edge, filled with rows of LPs, hidding MY clutter on the other side. What does clutter mean, in that case, you ask? Bike tools, so that I can modify the two heaps I have on the table (they are not heaps, I just want the customer to think that at first glance, cause I am weird. I am mr.e_crafts after all, right?
// Still raining outside, and I am on a roll now 🙂
Ok, so bike tools. Then pieces of leather scattered around, some teather tools, and the necklace I am woking on. Then hidden behind the boxes is my lunch, my coffee, and other debree.
Suddenly the girl is next to me, and I am holding the necklace.
What is that?
Detter, must detter!
This, oh it’s a necklace I am working on…. I pause cause my mind is frantically thinking…
As you can see it’s a ring, which is tied onto a leather fourbraid… long pause… The knot holding it is the hangman’s noose, the knot they hang people on… long pause…. cause I am simply sick and tired of my heart.
Long pause. I LOVE THAT! Whaaat
It was just her spontaneous reaction that got to me, the first real pang of pain, a fraction of second I will remember a long time. She danced away to her table, totally unaware how she stung me.