Welcome to our festival
This is an entry from my journal.
I always enjoy working at the festival. I have in the past sold bread and related products, but this year I managed a toy store front that also featured κομποσχοίνια (komboschinia). A komboschini is a piece of rope with knots that you typically wear as a bracelet. Komboschinia have a religious significance, but people also use them as a fashion statement. I now have three on each wrist, for example, to turbocharge that religiosity.
Even though I am an introvert, I am a good dealer at noisy places. I am sufficiently talkative, have a loud voice, and take nothing seriously if I do not have to. A tourist thought this was a bazaar where she would haggle to get a discount. I shouted for everyone waiting in line to listen “I want my swimming pool madame; no discounts!”. Then I said “okay, take six and pay for five”
Another person wanted to have a picture with me after we did some good business together and had a positive vibe. I was all smiles until that point and turned dead serious all of a sudden: “a thousand euro for my image rights!” and then I laughed.
Those who know me well will attest to my sense of humour and lightheartedness. The others will have to wait to see what I have in store for them. I am much more careful online because cultural differences increase the likelihood of misunderstandings. For instance, I cannot do the whole trick of raising my hands and shouting “my friend” at a German as soon as I meet them because they will, quite understandably, get PTSD that the Greeks are back for more money. In such cases I am cautious. Though I will still throw some bait, in the form of pointed remarks, and if I notice that the person has caught it then I will not miss an opportunity to make them smile.
Most of what I do either is directly for teasing people or has such a component. Sometimes I do it in a playful and exaggerated manner. At others I am subtle. The latter kind is what I typically do on my website: I challenge the reader to drop what was theretofore an idea that they took seriously. And there is a version of this which takes the form of a provocation. You do not see me laughing while I am saying out loud the most witty formulation I came up with, but if you knew me you would know this part as well. It is not your fault, of course, just the nature of the medium.
At any rate, the festival is my kind of place. The majority of people who show up are the average folk. They belong to the working class, dress with unbranded clothes, have no pretences to greatness, and are straightforward. The snobs will skip such events because they dismiss the plebs as uncultured and crude. They cannot stand out in the crowd, which annoys them greatly. For me not having their smug face there is wonderful news because I do not have to make them feel uncomfortable myself.
For example, I was walking my dogs and one of them took a moment to pee on a tire. Dogs do this all the time. I did not give it any thought until some posh dude called me out asking why did I allow my dog to do that to his car. I looked at him without uttering a word, then checked the car, and said “wash it, you have money”. Implicit in my comment was a common challenge I present: if you come to me to play the game you purport to be good at, then I will make sure you live up to your own rules or realise that it is better to be easygoing. Either way, you win.
To find entry level snobs, you can just go to any random cafeteria these days. They have all become high class. It used to be that coffee was the cheapest drink for the worker to start the day with a positive “good morning”. Now the places have cookie jars and cheesecakes on the front. Their menu is full of augmented drinks. A cup is adorned with creams, syrups, and make-belief all so that they can charge you a small fortune.
Water is extra, of course. Soon the authorities will outlaw that
thing. It makes business sense to channel it all to the AI puppet
masters. This way, jaded programmers can have the illusion of
continuous productivity when an agent surfaces what grep and/or
find would have discovered without draining a lake in the process.
Until recently it was 1 euro for a shot of Cyprus coffee (sorry, Turks, we rebranded it because we are petty bastards). Now that amount of money does not even get you a polite look. And say you buy a coffee, they will be pushy about you leaving as quickly as possible. “Would you like something else?” is the most ominous question you can get in this situation. If you respond negatively, they tell you that they will go fetch the bill. Basically, they make it clear that you are an impediment to the boss’ profiteering. Such are their instructions.
At the festival I meet the people who are otherwise invisible. They go to work, then back home. This is their budget. It is the same for me. I basically do not exist as a social animal most of the year. I even work from home for my coaching, which means that I can go for weeks without having an extended chat face-to-face. As for possibly coaching from cafeterias, that is terrible business because of how expensive they are relative to how much I charge. Plus, it would be inconvenient in practice.
Festivals are a reminder that the common folk exist, yet they only come to life when that time of the year arrives. Such is the stupid society we tolerate.