I occasionally work at antiques fairs, mainly specialising in Ancient Greek and Roman antiques, like coins, statues, vases, etc. Today I’m covering all ancient and Oriental artefacts, including two statues from ninth-century China, both named ‘Fat Ladies.’

A man comes up to the booth and looks intently at the two statues for a while before giving me a leery smile and saying ‘I like fat ladies.’ and then patting me on the head before leaving without saying another word.

(I have a booth at a local craft fair, and all my products are out. The craft fair is part of a much larger festival, so there are a lot of people walking around and looking. One woman, kid in tow, is walking past when her kid sees my stuff and calls her attention to it.)

Customer: “Oh, honey, I know what this is. It’s all that candle s***.”

(I do not, nor have I ever, made candles for sale, so none of what is displayed is a candle. Her kid is still pointing stuff out, so she apparently decides to teach them that Mommy knows best. She storms into my booth, where the following conversation happens:)

Customer: *smacks her hand on some of my products* “So, these are candles, right?”

Me: “No, ma’am, those are my small two-ounce lotions. They’re handmade and $2 each.”

Customer: *points to another product* “And what about those? Are those candles?”

Me: “No, ma’am, those are my wax melts, for wax burners. They’re also handmade and $3 each.”

Customer: *getting irritated as she fails to find candles in my booth* “Well, what about those? That’s those wickless candles, right?”

Me: “No, ma’am, those are my handmade soaps. They’re $4 each.”

Customer: *very irritated, to her kid* “See, it’s just all that candle s***!” *walks off*

(My kids’ elementary school has an annual fair that is scheduled to end at 8. At about 7:45, we start to notify those at the end of particularly long lines that after them the lines will be “closed.” Everyone who is waiting can participate but we will finish at 8:00. Since people have trouble understanding this, I stand in front of the balloon animal table sending people away. This takes place about 8:15 at the balloon animal station, where 10-year-old students are creating the ever-popular balloon animals.)

Mother: *with kindergarten-aged son, walking up to my daughter as she is working on her last balloon animal of the night* “My son really wants a balloon animal.”

Me: “I’m sorry, the fair ended 15 minutes ago so we aren’t making any more.”

Mother: “But he really wants one.”

Me: “I’m sorry; we can’t do this all night, so we cut off the line when the fair ended.”

Mother: *to my daughter* “Make him a dog!”

Me: “No, she won’t be making one. The fair ended 15 minutes ago and it’s time for us to clean up and go home.”

Mother: “So, why are THEY getting balloon animals?!”

Me: “Well, these people were waiting in line before 8:00 so we are finishing theirs.”

Mother: “Why are you giving a balloon animal to that girl?” *pointing to the girl waiting for her balloon* “She’s too old to need one. They should be for little kids like my son.”

Me: “Actually, this girl was volunteering at one of the games the whole time. Since she wants one, I think she deserves one for all her hard work.”

My Daughter: *to teenager waiting* “Here’s your balloon.” *reaches out to pass the balloon to her*

Mother: *snatches balloon from my daughter’s hand, then hands it to her young son*

Son: *big smile*

(The jaws of my daughter, I, the teenager, and everyone else around who witnessed this, drop, staring at this mother, speechless.)

Mother & Son: *walk away*

My Daughter: *exhausted and ready to go home* Mom, I know we weren’t going to make any more but can I make one more for her?” *pointing at teenager*

Me: “Of course. I can’t believe that just happened!”

(My girlfriend and I are at a fair. We approach a barn that holds horses.)

Girlfriend: “Do you like horses?”

Me: “Uh, sure, if you do.”

(We start to enter the barn.)

Me: “That came out weird. I don’t like horses even if you do, but we can totally look at them if you want.”

Girlfriend: “Actually, horses terrify me.”

(We promptly turned around and found something else to do. Once I had wrapped my head around what had happened, I let her know that I thought that was a very brave and selfless thing to do, even if I don’t understand why.)

(My wife really likes carnival rides, especially ones that spin. We’re on one such ride and she’s giggling like a schoolgirl.)

Me: “I just ride to watch your reactions.”

Wife: *continues giggling*

Me: “Just like in the bedroom.”