The Final Adventures at the Ren Fest

I was only out one day last weekend, but it was a lot.

On Sunday:

• A fairy with black paint all over their hands and arms came in and started to touch the yarn…
• A couple of teenagers started spinning the wheel in-between demos. My middle school voice came out: “Don’t touch the spinning wheel, please. Thank you!” The response was “We weren’t!!” Like I wasn’t sitting eight feet away with a direct line of sight…
• Yet another kid (after already being told once by us and once by their parent not to touch the spinning wheel) started screwing down the tension hard. The level of panic from Marci and I was the highest I remember out there. At least the parent was decent enough to apologize.
• Yet one more teenager, putting on a fake British accent even, walked into the booth and immediately announced (and I mean announced. It was loud.) that they would not be buying any yarn here today. “I’m not a good enough crocheter for this yarn” was said no less than three times. Of course, that statement is never true, but I didn’t have it in me to argue with this theatre kid who probably (understandably) didn’t have any money for yarn. On their way out, they said “I’ll come back in a few years when I’m better,” and reaching my limit, I responded “You can come out, but we won’t be here.” It took a few more minutes to explain that Marci was selling the booth, and we would not be back. Tears were shed.
• Two more teenagers came by to tell me they saw me on TikTok! I felt so famous!
• Someone came by my demo and asked what I was doing. I told them “Spinning yarn on a spinning wheel,” and they just looked on pensively for a moment. Their next question was “So, it just spins?”
• We got called out for “lying” about the fiber contents of Marci’s garments. “Wool isn’t this soft!”
• Even better, someone came in with a group of friends and said they could tell whatever fiber something is made of just by touch. They flitted around the shop: “This is angora. This is mink.” The friends literally applauded. No one thought to double check (because of course, everything said was wrong).
• My friends Maggie and Tara stopped by the booth, and Maggie said she really wanted to make this week’s blog post. She told me “the spirit is strong, but the game is weak.” I told her it was insightful.
• Three jerks blocked the entrance nearest the check-out counter to the booth, setting drinks on the counter they were so close. They were having a conversation that I was honestly trying to ignore, but they were two feet in front of me. “Quit eavesdropping,” one said to me. “None of this concerns you.” Great, then get the f@#& out of my booth (I wanted to say).
• I said last year the biggest disappointment in not having a 2020 Ren Fest was not being able to chuck plastic coins at Witcher cosplayers. Sure enough, the hype has died down, and the next season of the show won’t be out until December. So, no opportunities presented itself this year, until I was walking out of the park that last day of Faire. I saw the white hair first, since he was sitting on a bench. Then I saw the tiny crossbow. “You’re a Witcher?” I asked him. “Yes!” he said. “FINALLY!” I yelled as I tossed him a coin. Season made.
• I witnessed a big break up in the parking lot on the walk to my car.

Also, we celebrated Marci’s 30 year run with a champagne and cookie toast.

And yes, a lot of my experiences out there were utter madness, but truthfully I wouldn’t trade in a day of it. Working at the Ren Fest was a childhood dream, and this was the best way that dream could become a reality. Getting to spin while having multiple opportunities for peak people watching is the dream. I’m most grateful for all the time I got to spend with Marci and Chrissy.

While I know I’ll become a bit verklempt this time next year, right now I’m looking forward to some free weekends! Hope you’ve enjoyed reading the adventures as much as I loved writing them.