Tuesday Afternoon: 6:33pm
"Damn, are we even gonna sell a sandwich today?" Kate asked.
I was starting to sweat a bit. It was a hot August afternoon & we were surrounded by concrete, but going "0" for a market was not something I was prepared for.
The week before, I actually left Kate their solo & drove to the other Restaurant Depot in Miramar, unloaded our supplies & came back- all during the Mira Mesa market. The fact that I was gone for over two hours & Kate only sold a couple of grape sodas during my absence should have been a clue as to how bad it was.
"Let's give it one more week," I said when I got back.
So, here we were, now sitting on the big cooler with our fingers crossed behind our backs. There a few things more humiliating than standing around inside your booth watching others ring up sales to a handful of market goers wandering down the midway.
I am happy to say that we did make a sale that day, in the final hour, before I told Ron, the market manager, that we would not return.
"Well, not all markets are a good fit for everyone," he said. He knew how much (or little) we made when we handed him our slip each of those five weeks we set up there. "You guys have been doing alright at my Sunday market though, right?" he asked.
"Yeah, Leucadia's good for us," I agreed.
We'd made the forty-five minute drive up there the last two Sunday mornings. As much as I didn't want to work Sundays, it was way more enjoyable than any Tuesday had been at Mira Mesa.
Our display Cheezer at our final Mira Mesa market. Our worst outing in the history of Mad Munch.
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