I consider myself a "realistic optimist." I know that things aren't always going to work out for me. The task is to do my best with the hand I'm dealt. People who are 100% happy all of the time make me a little suspicious.
So with this in mind, I will talk about a Leather event where I bootblacked this weekend.
It was a charity event, with entertainment and a silent auction, and I was the sole Bootblack (heh heh heh she said "sole").
I advertised as much as I could beforehand, letting people know a Bootblack would be there.
The attendance was fair, I would say, considering it's a Saturday night in August.
I had three customers.
Now some Bootblacks might not be too happy with that number, for which I totally understand. We take our time, for a whole evening, possibly driving for a couple of hours, just for three people?
And that's when Miss Sunshine and Unicorn Rainbow Farts comes out.
I was so deliriously happy to have these three customers sit for me. More would have been great, of course.
But I remember each one:
A young handsome man with beautiful oil tan engineer boots and leather chaps and an adorable mustache and bubbly personality. And it was his first time sitting for a Bootblack! Bonus points!
A beautiful young woman, a Leather title holder, who needed her Harley Davidson boots tended to (also oil tans).
And finally, I was approached by a lovely lady wearing black soft leather shoes. "The are almost new," she said. "But they're scuffed on the toes. Is there anything you can do?"
I looked at the scuffs and looked back up at her.
"There's nothing you can do, is there?" she sighed.
I beamed back at her. "Are you kidding?" I answered. "I will have these looking like new in a few minutes!"
So yeah, I had three customers. But they were wonderful people. And they will remember what a Bootblack can do and they will seek us out at other events.
Each time we provide this service, we are educating someone. We are letting people know we are here, that we still exist, and always will as long as there are Leather folk.
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