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Southern Oregon Journal: Bizarre holiday bazaar behavior Sunday Dec 11, 2016 at 12:01 AM By Peggy Dover for the Mail Tribune Last week, despite my aversion to shopping and crowds, I braved a Christmas bazaar. I chose one from the lot, with the sole aim of checking a few items off my gift list. I anticipated a stroll through offerings of home-crafted goods, with jovial vendors who love their work and exude goodwill. Sometimes I over-expect. It was The Expo. After getting the lay of the layout, someone near me recognized the defeatist look on my face and told me there was an entire lower floor and another balcony. I said something like, “Oh, my,” and began to question my choice of this venue over, say, the Sam’s Valley Country Bazaar. But I knew my target quarry, and felt confident I could skirt the outer perimeters of the unsuitable and zero in on the most promising. It looked good on paper. I would judge swiftly, eliminating scores of booths filled with trinkets for someone else’s stocking. Momentum and nerve mounted until I waded in. Right out of the gate I saw a woman selling soy candles, a list item, in 17 fragrances. I spent 10 minutes lifting and sniffing each one. How else would I know? It wouldn’t figure for me to spend 10 minutes at each stop. I moved on to a booth selling a popular clothing line — definitely not on the list, but they caught my eye so I shuffled through the racks as the seller gave the spiel about how comfortable and essential they were. My brain fell into the fog of the friendly woman’s patter while trying to decide about maybe buying something for myself, before I stopped the madness and said no. She was an unintentional subversive. I took a breath and went forward. By now I’d warmed up for the frontlines, so I descended the stair. But I was not primed for other nefarious attempts to lure me from my good intentions. I merely smiled in the direction of one man who handed me a lotion packet and began asking personal questions about my skin care. Was I at the mall? No, but like an idiot I answered him, so he continued. I couldn’t recall the name of my current face cream, igniting minor anxiety and doubt concerning my mental faculties. I left while he was still talking. After regaining some composure, I ran smack into another beauty-product seller — one I used and liked. In fact, I needed some of the products, so I stopped. This proved a major misstep because I could not simply choose, pay and carry on. I needed to at least consider becoming a consultant to take advantage of the deep discount, or be thought a fool. Now, Candy knew her stuff, and I liked her, but I could hear precious minutes galloping down the stretch like thoroughbreds. When I broke away, I felt like a cad and wondered whether I was fostering a reputation as the bazaar character. It happened again at yet another candle merchant who assured me they were made of soy, but couldn’t tell me what kind of fragrances they used. Their faces fell as I reneged after having sniffed every candle while reaching for my wallet. There were bright moments though, especially after bagging some gifts. I greeted my friend, Charmaine, who makes and sells jewelry. I met Alexis from the Crater High School Teens in Transition program, whose blue spruce-scented candles proved irresistible. Kayton sold Mail Tribune subscriptions for Sparrow Clubs. People are the prime treasure at a craft fair for me — always interesting and a captive audience. So, if you’re on a mission, keep your eyes on the goal and do not be friendly. Don’t smile at the vendor or ask if they brought lunch, whether they have grandchildren, or how long it takes them to knit a stocking cap for a dachshund. You must be ruthless in the quest. — Peggy Dover is a freelance writer living in Eagle Point. Email her at [email protected].