Street Fairs

I think a fun thing to blog about would be street fairs. In NY, in the fall, there is a street fair pretty much every weekend (Sat. and Sunday). These street fairs include about 5 of the same thing, about thirty times. They usually go on for about 15 blocks, closing traffic to all non-pedestrians (happy for me; sad for busses and cars), and you have to walk through the whole thing, to see if you're not missing anything.

You're not. This is what is at the NY street fair: Vegetarian Falafel Stand - this is always, for some reason, the first thing I see. There are 3 of these, always. Other things in the way of food are the disgusting mozarella type sandwich thing - there are 2 or 3 of those; The sad asian smoothy place that never seems to have any customers; The Thai food for $1 place; and the huge hunks of unidentifiable meat places.

Then you have the crappy jewelery places: these are about 75% of the street fair.

Then there's the weird random things. The huge paintings that are so hideous no one would buy them. The Victorian plush psychiatrists couch. The weird metallic statue that looks like it belongs in an Adams Family movie.

Then there's the star: the diamond in the rough. This is why you search. For the one thing - it's always one thing, and it isn't always even around. It's the good store. We found it (gf and I), today. Today it was a jewelery botique, but it wasn't crappy jewelery. It was jewelery made by an Eastern European (vaguely Russian?) (maybe Ukranian?) girl and her mother. The father was there too, but his position was unclear. The daughter seemed to be in charge. When I asked for a business card (their stuff was good enough to ask for a card), the father searched around among some random boxes for about 10 minutes, while I fidgeted uncomfortably, until he decided that he would make me my very own personal business card by tearing off a piece of paper, and writing his number on it - (or his wife's; or his daughter's; I wasn't really clear on this part). Then I scurried away, throwing the paper in the next trashcan I came to. Truth is, I had only asked for the business card in the first place to be nice.