Anyway. As I say, this week I've done a few shifts at a show where I met some thoroughly interesting characters.
It all started on the first day, traditionally the domain of the retired, who set out for a look before the crowds get too big on the following days.
Now, if you've been to one of these things you'll know there are often a lot of competitions.
You fill in a form, pop it in a special box and if successful you win something. In a similar vein, some exhibitors give something little away. Maybe a pen, a bag or a small packet of jellybeans. That sort of thing.
First-day attendees know this. As do the exhibitors. So the five minutes before the doors open is a tense time as everyone gets ready to do battle.
I'd been away from the show environment for a few years and I'd forgotten about it, so when the doors opened I walked away from our stand to the head of the aisle to watch the crowds pouring in. Well not exactly pouring, but I'm sure you know what I mean.
What I saw gave me the giggles.
Leading the charge were two ladies on mobility scooters. Behind them were 20 to 30 people, mostly content to amble the first 10 yards into the venue, except for three or four who appeared rather impatient to get through the throng and get their show experience under way without delay.
I watched as the Scooter Girls began their assault on the first aisle. One took the left, the other the right in a synchronised display that left you in no doubt they had been practising for months. Perhaps ever since the last show in this particular venue.
It would be fair to say they barely paused at each stand before moving on to the next. I would discover why a few minutes later.
Behind them the three or four impatient oldies had got to the front of the ambling crowd and were now hogging the sign-in spots for the free competitions, a triumphant smirk across the face of one bloke. I'm thinking any victory, however small, is worth celebrating if you are that way inclined.
Anyway.
Back at the end of the aisle, I realise the Scooter Girls are bearing down on me quick so I get into position for their arrival.
Flyer in hand, I greet the one covering my side with a friendly smile as she pulls up.
I don't actually know why I bothered.
"Got any free stuff?," Scooter Girl barked as I prepare to ask her how her day was.
I have to say the question, thrown at me as forcefully as it was, threw me off guard and I stumbled over my reply. I'd barely got the words out than she was off to her next target in a whir of electric, motorised invisible dust.
I watched them go down the aisle, snatching a pen from one exhibitor and a small carrier bag from another as they went.
I'm not 100 per cent sure, but some ladies who looked very similar to the previously motorised pair walked back through half an hour later. I was left with the distinct impression their modus operandi was scooter first to grab as many freebies as possible then walk through and have a proper look later.
Oh well, whatever floats your boat I suppose.
Back at our stand, the competition form filler inners have arrived and they appear to have lost their voices in the rush.
"How are you today?," I ask politely. No response. Just a look of dismissal from Mr Grumpy.
Mrs Miserable suddenly spots a couple of pads and pens on the desk we use.
Completely ignoring any of my attempts at conversation, they snatch a pen each and busily start writing down their details.
Oh well, I thought, they obviously want a quote.
Turns out they didn't. They simply saw the pen and the pads that we use for notes and assumed it was for some competition to win something free.
When I told them there was no such contest, Mr Grumpy simply screwed up his piece of paper and threw it on the table. At least Mrs Miserable handed her screwed-up piece of paper to me before she stomped off.
And so there I was, barely an hour into the show, in a state of shock.
Luckily, the next person through offered me a glimmer of hope for some business when she strode up and breathlessly asked if she could have one of my flyers.
Naturally, I obliged and was just about to ask her how her day was when she beat me to it.
"Thank you dear," she said. "I'm having a hot flush."
And with that, she wandered off down the aisle fanning herself with my flyer.
