Why my aunt is awesome.
It's not her birthday yet, but I remembered tonight a great story of why embermwe rocks. I was telling this story to a SCAdian I know, and I thought I would share it here, because it's the most hilarious thing that happened to me all of Pennsic this year.
So, last Birka (early 2012) a woman I vaguely recognized came up to me at Auntie Arwen's booth, looked around for a moment, and said, "I need some Ras Al-Hanout." I looked through the trays, found the spot where it should've been, checked the boxes below, and said, "I'm sorry, it looks like I'm out." She said sourly, "But I need it." I blinked a few times and said, "Well, you're welcome to order it from our website." "No, I don't want to order it online, I want to buy it when I want it." Blink. "Okay, well hopefully we'll have it at another event." I rung up the other two things she bought, and bagged them for her.
She hovered for another minute or two as if convinced I would give up my ruse and produce the product for her. I went back to work, and she HMPHed and left with the rest of her purchases. I blinked a few more times and went back to work.
So, last Crown Tourney, I'm there with Auntie Arwen's stuff. I see the woman coming at 7pm, as they're setting up Court, and as I'm packing down all the bins. I want to flee, since Court will be in the room I'm in, and I'll be stuck until after. I'm putting the last three trays in bins, and she promptly appears and states that she truly needs her Ras Al-Hanout. I am momentarily put off since I don't have her anything, but I say, "I'm sorry, I'm packing down, and I know I'm out of that." "You didn't even CHECK." "I brought four. I sold four. I'm happy to get you a card." "You should've held one for me! HMPH!" And she stomps off.
At this point, she has become Ras Al-Hanout woman in my mind, forever and ever. I will never think of her as anything other than that woman who harasses me unreasonably for her one product that she never shows up early enough to buy and refuses to order online. Underneath each encounter is her unending assertion that because of her tin hat and... I don't know, her long standing customership? She believes that I should know she is coming, and always refuse to sell one of that product, waiting for her.
So, last Pennsic... There I am in the shop, and Tin Hat Ras Al-Hanout woman appears, squinting about and grumpy looking as if she is going into battle. I almost climb out the back of the shop through the raised tent wall, and then naturally, Auntie Arwen is all, "Teg! Let's get this woman some Ras Al-Hanout!" I sigh into the back of the tent and go to search the tables. Naturally, we are out, and must stock it. She glares at me and snaps, "You never stock it!" I take a deep breath and say, "It's very popular, and we just had a rush. Just give us a few minutes."
At this point, I'm handling three other customers. Two want spices for dinner, which is basically a series of "three tablespoons of x" and "1 tsp of y" which one of the jar fillers has to measure out for them. This means they're in the way of me looking through the stock bottles. I wait, and work on finding it, as the jug in particular has been misplaced.
Impatient Tin Hat Angry Grumpy Ras Al-Hanout woman has now stomped her foot angrily and hmphed at me twice. Another woman is using fantastically incorrect invectives to inform me about how we're carrying FAKE cubebs (which we are not, we figured out what went wrong the year before, and fixed it), and there are two women from Tortuga who need dinner spices. Ixy is helping one woman, Sherry is helping me look, and my aunt embermwe is calmly and industriously mixing blends for Auntie Arwen.
ITHAGRAH woman stomps her foot again and says, "WHY don't you ever STOCK my Ras Al-Hanout!?" I lean over the bin, resist the urge to Hulk Smash the entire thing at her, and calmly tell her again about how popular it is, and how other people buy it as well, which was the most polite way I could possibly manage to point out that we do not carry a product merely for her.
She rolls her eyes and wails, "But I've been waiting since JAAANUARY!"
My aunt embermwe, bless her effing soul, looks up with her half lidded eyes in that particular expression she gets which communicates serenely how idiotic someone is being. Then she says calmly, "Well, you must be good at it by now. Chill out."
I wheezed silently into a bin, shaking too hard to move and trying not to laugh aloud for almost a full minute.
And this is just one reason why my aunt rocks.
So, last Birka (early 2012) a woman I vaguely recognized came up to me at Auntie Arwen's booth, looked around for a moment, and said, "I need some Ras Al-Hanout." I looked through the trays, found the spot where it should've been, checked the boxes below, and said, "I'm sorry, it looks like I'm out." She said sourly, "But I need it." I blinked a few times and said, "Well, you're welcome to order it from our website." "No, I don't want to order it online, I want to buy it when I want it." Blink. "Okay, well hopefully we'll have it at another event." I rung up the other two things she bought, and bagged them for her.
She hovered for another minute or two as if convinced I would give up my ruse and produce the product for her. I went back to work, and she HMPHed and left with the rest of her purchases. I blinked a few more times and went back to work.
So, last Crown Tourney, I'm there with Auntie Arwen's stuff. I see the woman coming at 7pm, as they're setting up Court, and as I'm packing down all the bins. I want to flee, since Court will be in the room I'm in, and I'll be stuck until after. I'm putting the last three trays in bins, and she promptly appears and states that she truly needs her Ras Al-Hanout. I am momentarily put off since I don't have her anything, but I say, "I'm sorry, I'm packing down, and I know I'm out of that." "You didn't even CHECK." "I brought four. I sold four. I'm happy to get you a card." "You should've held one for me! HMPH!" And she stomps off.
At this point, she has become Ras Al-Hanout woman in my mind, forever and ever. I will never think of her as anything other than that woman who harasses me unreasonably for her one product that she never shows up early enough to buy and refuses to order online. Underneath each encounter is her unending assertion that because of her tin hat and... I don't know, her long standing customership? She believes that I should know she is coming, and always refuse to sell one of that product, waiting for her.
So, last Pennsic... There I am in the shop, and Tin Hat Ras Al-Hanout woman appears, squinting about and grumpy looking as if she is going into battle. I almost climb out the back of the shop through the raised tent wall, and then naturally, Auntie Arwen is all, "Teg! Let's get this woman some Ras Al-Hanout!" I sigh into the back of the tent and go to search the tables. Naturally, we are out, and must stock it. She glares at me and snaps, "You never stock it!" I take a deep breath and say, "It's very popular, and we just had a rush. Just give us a few minutes."
At this point, I'm handling three other customers. Two want spices for dinner, which is basically a series of "three tablespoons of x" and "1 tsp of y" which one of the jar fillers has to measure out for them. This means they're in the way of me looking through the stock bottles. I wait, and work on finding it, as the jug in particular has been misplaced.
Impatient Tin Hat Angry Grumpy Ras Al-Hanout woman has now stomped her foot angrily and hmphed at me twice. Another woman is using fantastically incorrect invectives to inform me about how we're carrying FAKE cubebs (which we are not, we figured out what went wrong the year before, and fixed it), and there are two women from Tortuga who need dinner spices. Ixy is helping one woman, Sherry is helping me look, and my aunt embermwe is calmly and industriously mixing blends for Auntie Arwen.
ITHAGRAH woman stomps her foot again and says, "WHY don't you ever STOCK my Ras Al-Hanout!?" I lean over the bin, resist the urge to Hulk Smash the entire thing at her, and calmly tell her again about how popular it is, and how other people buy it as well, which was the most polite way I could possibly manage to point out that we do not carry a product merely for her.
She rolls her eyes and wails, "But I've been waiting since JAAANUARY!"
My aunt embermwe, bless her effing soul, looks up with her half lidded eyes in that particular expression she gets which communicates serenely how idiotic someone is being. Then she says calmly, "Well, you must be good at it by now. Chill out."
I wheezed silently into a bin, shaking too hard to move and trying not to laugh aloud for almost a full minute.
And this is just one reason why my aunt rocks.