How was Your Winter?
Posted: February 19, 2011 Filed under: fabulousness, greenmarket, How to Be a Good Customer 1 Comment>When I first began working at the Union Square Greenmarket, I would hear farmers ask, longabout mid-April, when everyone was returning for the season, “How was your winter?” I like this question for its allusion to the past, to a time when the winter could actually make a huge irrevocable change in the future. Structures collapsed, animals didn’t make it, people died. Things are mostly different now, but farmer’s live closer to the edge than most of us. Their stakes are always higher.
We had a tiny touch of warm weather today, the kind of sunlight-surprise that fills the market with what I (somewhat) lovingly call “Unprofessionals.” People who, bless their hearts, ask, at 10:00am, things like: “Are you going to be here for fifteen more minutes?” And then they never return.
People have difficulty trying to end the brief relationship they enter into with us, mostly by accident. They make promises, they ask questions like “What days are you here, I want to know when I should come back.” But, see, we can tell when you are never going to come back. It’s okay to just say thank you and walk away. Really.
I have a thing: I hate when the weather changes and it’s all people can talk about–the news does a “story” on it, small talk in elevators are ripe with (usually) groaning office workers, and Facebook, which I like, and which has increased the chatter exponentially, lights up with everyone having the same reaction: “Snow!,” and “Snow, yay!” or “So hot outside,” and “Ugh, so hot.” But, today was the kind of day that teaches you just how radical a change in weather can be, how affirming a piece of sun on your hair really is.
Something I think about a lot is how convenient it is that the Earth so matches with our sense of time, space and beauty. I know, right?!?! I really do think about this. Of course it does, we came from the Earth. But, I still find it pretty incredible that what we find most aesthetically pleasing is what there is in the world: vistas, waterfalls, mountaintops. Maybe this seems obvious, but I am still amazed by it. By how well we fit with our planet. (Right now, for the purpose of this idea, we’re opting for naiveté, and not discussing how good we are at destroying it, too.)
I’m also amazed at the earth’s ability to give us what we need when we need it. Today, a glorious, sunwashed day, sixty degrees, after months of–literally–freezing and darkness. Coming right when I felt like I couldn’t take another windy, flat, gray winter Friday, with the city still covered in giant chunks of black, sooty snow, covered in cigarette butts and dog shit. Seriously.
Today was extraordinary, and I know more about “How was your winter” tonight than I did yesterday. No, really. All of this is very, as they say, tree-hugger….and dammit if there isn’t something–OMG–spiritual-ish growing somewhere inside me. But that’s what I’m talking about. That’s what the sun can do. One of the customers, certainly an Unprofessional, remarked: “I didn’t remember how I could be this happy.”
How to Be a Good Customer: Lessons from a Syrup Slinger, Vol. 3
Posted: August 8, 2009 Filed under: advice, greenmarket, How to Be a Good Customer, maple syrup, stupidity Leave a comment>“How to Be a Good Customer: Lessons Learned from a Syrup Slinger” is a blog series that emerged from my years of experience selling maple syrup at the Union Square Greenmarket. The mission of this sporadic, multi-part series is to teach the citizens of New York how to be polite, intelligent, interested consumers, without acting like imbeciles.
Lesson #3: What, Do You Think We’re Dragging our Minks through Monaco?
A woman came to the stand yesterday and opened with “I don’t want to pay that much.” Seriously, that was her answer to my initial “Hello.” She seemed to think that she was the one who decided the price, with this carefree whoop-dee-do about it. She wanted a gallon of syrup. “I’ll take one of these for forty-five,” she said, just like that, case closed. “I’m sorry, I can’t do that,” I said. Then she said the thing that people say when they want to be assholes: “Well then, I’m going to talk to the manager.”
People who say this are often disappointed to discover that 1) We are not like the grocery store, where one dude is in charge of all the aisles. Hello, each stand is its own entity. 2) I am the manager, and you’re not getting your gallon of syrup for $13 less. 3) The Greenmarket managers could give a shit.
Let me just say this. If you think that prices at the farmer’s market are inflated then you’re an idiot. And if you think that the farmers and their workers are living it up, renting penthouses in Vegas, downing bags of blow and laughing their asses off because you were foolish enough to pay–$8 !!–for that eight ounces of syrup, then you need to get over your sad-sack miserable-me of a self.
How to Be a Good Customer: Lessons from a Syrup Slinger, Vol. 2
Posted: April 15, 2009 Filed under: greenmarket, How to Be a Good Customer, maple syrup Leave a comment>“How to Be a Good Customer: Lessons Learned from a Syrup Slinger” is a blog series that emerged from my years of experience selling maple syrup at the Union Square Greenmarket. The mission of this sporadic, multi-part series is to teach the citizens of New York how to be polite, intelligent, interested consumers, without acting like total douches.
Lesson 2: How Should I Know? or WTF are You Talking About?
I guess I have high standards. I like it when you ask questions; I want you to know the answers. I want you to understand the differences between one syrup and the next. I want you to understand how the syrup is made. I want you to know about why buying from us–or another farmer–is important. I want you to know about the amazing things that Mother Nature does so that you can enjoy your pancakes. But please, think about what you are asking. Here are some actual questions asked by my customers:
–“Why are there different sized bottles?”
–“Can I buy a bigger size?”
–“What if I want to buy four?”
–“How will I know if I like it?”
–“What if my sister doesn’t like it?”
–“Will this fit in my refrigerator?”
–“Can I take this to my country house?”
–“How much do I need for my recipe?”
–“Is this cheese?”
–“Do you put eggs in this?”
—In January, 18 degrees: “Are you cold?”
—In April, complete downpour: “Why is everything wet?”
—In August, 92 degrees: “Are you hot?”
–“How much for a few pieces of soap?”
–“How much are the roasting chickens?”
–“You don’t have any roasting chickens at all?”
–“How am I supposed to get it out of this jar?”
–“Won’t I need a funnel to get it out of this jar?”
–“Why do I like this better?”
How to Be a Good Customer: Lessons from a Syrup Slinger, Vol. 1
Posted: March 29, 2009 Filed under: greenmarket, How to Be a Good Customer, maple syrup 1 Comment>“How to Be a Good Customer: Lessons Learned from a Syrup Slinger” is a blog series that emerged from my years of experience selling maple syrup at the Union Square Greenmarket. The mission of this sporadic, multi-part series is to teach the citizens of New York how to be polite, intelligent, interested consumers, without acting like fucking idiots.
Lesson 1: It’s Not an Apartment.
Many people fret about whether or not they are making the right decision. We can’t decide what outfit to wear for that special date, what flavor chicken bits they should have the Mexican guy toss into their $12 salad, what color to paint the nursury (Princess Tiara, Manly Tan, or Wattle*), or how to properly invest your Powerball winnings. I know these are issues that I am constantly grappling with.
But, in the end, it’s just syrup. At the most basic level you are making a choice that will improve your life, not hinder it. If you buy the wrong syrup, give it to your neighbor, pour it on your head, paint by number, feed the ants, kill some ants, put down a Voodoo line, who gives a shit?
This is really an issue of self-confience. Be confident that if you buy too small a bottle, we are here every week for your convenience. Be confident that if you buy too large a bottle, perchance you could research what other uses for maple syrup might excite you. (Did you try it in lemonade yet? Did you add some to your salad dressing?)
Be confident that this small decision is not one that will determine 1) your entry into heaven, or 2) your fundamental happiness for the rest of eternity, (okay, sorta the same thing, but whatever.) Remember, I want you to have what you want, I want to sell you the syrup that will make you feel like every choice you made in your entire life up to this very moment has been the right one. But I can’t do that if you are fretting for 5.5 minutes** over 3 ounces. Really.
*Actual paint names.
**Actual time spent hand-wringing by a lady who couldn’t decide.
Grammar Piano 