For some reason, self-publicity is about the hardest thing for me to do. Sometimes I get so nervous that I end up giving the impression that my work should be avoided like the plague. It’s an unfortunate ailment for an individual who is the sole owner of a small business.
Yesterday I had the opportunity to visit a small knitting shop near my place of residence. I’ve visited several times to purchase some much-coveted yarn, and each time I feel that this would be the perfect place for me to make myself known to the knitting community. Not only is this wonderful place choc-full of yarns of all colors and textures, but they also sell coffee and have an open-knitting table, where knitters can take a cozy seat, swap projects, and bring their creations into being. I took some covert pictures there on one of my visits. Afterward I noticed a small sign that cheerfully recommended that I “Smile! Entire store under video surveillance!”
I visited the place in the company of my dear mother, not a knitter herself, but apparently astounded by the fact that people can create so much with a handful of small sticks.
Another charming feature of the little shop is the presence of sample projects scattered among the yarns. I’m not talking about those 3 by 5 rectangular swatches that usually appear in yarn stores. I’m talking full-blown, gorgeous projects! Shawls and scarves and entire sweaters, each knit with yarn from the shop. I’ve wanted to be employed to create some of these samples ever since I stumbled upon the place.
Strongly opposed to “inserting myself unbidden,” I have been to this place several times, wandered around, and tried to strike up a conversation with the cashier:
“Er, good morning. How’s your day been?”
“Wonderful, dear. How sweet of you to ask! Your total is $14.62. Have a wonderful day yourself.”
“Er, thanks a million.”
I would hover for a moment, then flee.
Yesterday was different. Yesterday I struck gold. Or maybe… nickel.
The first thing out of the cashier’s mouth was, “Do you knit?”
“Indeed I do, yes.”
My dear mother plunged in with characteristic enthusiasm, “She’d love to knit for you!”
Nudge, nudge, wink, wink. Subtlety abandoned.
The woman we conversed with happened to be the owner, and she quickly snapped up my information.
I mentally pumped my fist in triumph.