The sorrow of missed connections…
For her February editor’s letter, Karen Alberg Grossman imagines a few “missed connections” scenarios.
I was the buyer in the gray dress and high heels.
My feet hurt.
I was cold and wet from the rain.
The aisles at the Javits were long, endless.
I needed a coffee but lost the little ticket;
They wouldn’t take cash…
You were the cute guy with the great smile.
I wanted to stop, but the booth was crowded.
You glanced my way but you were busy:
Three guys in suits and ties
And big open-to-buys.
I would have come back, but didn’t.
Who needs more woven shirts?
I was the salesman hawking ties
And so of course I wore one.
But it was 93 degrees in Vegas
And the AC in the convention center
Had long since died.
Hot, sweaty, dying for a cold drink
I noticed you
Working with my colleague,
Writing away in your pink paisley notebook,
Your tank top and short skirt
Raising the temperature even more…
What could you be writing? These are ties,
Not works of art. Or are they?
I was the store owner in the bold plaid sportcoat.
(I wore it on purpose: now I wish I hadn’t…)
I was searching for sweaters
(They predict a strong knits season
But who is “they”
I’ve always wondered…)
I knew where to go:
That cool collection they rave about,
The trendy label in all the right stores.
I headed straight for that booth
Never looking up (I must owe someone money),
Never seeing the fabulous sweaters
In booths along the way…
To all our MR readers: Keep your eyes open at trade shows; you never know what’s out there.
See you in Vegas!