A brief aside here. I love that term. It brings back great memories.
Many, many moons ago as a young reporter I attended a local borough council meeting way down south where a conservative veteran councillor dutifully and solemnly reported "goings on" between a young couple at the park opposite her house.
There then ensued a rather uncomfortable few minutes while those present, presumably trying not to laugh, had to inquire as to the level of "goings on" involved. It turned out to be some rather spectacular but harmless pashing with both parties willing participants.
Nonetheless, and presumably to placate the indignant councillor, the mayor was asked to have a word with the father of the young lad involved, and I was asked not to report on the matter because it would paint the town in a bad light.
You have to love small-town New Zealand don't you?
Anyway. Back to the home show.
So, there I am watching proceedings and the retailer next to me is getting a bit of a hard time over a customer who wants to buy a couple of pairs of socks.
He wants one black pair and one white pair and he can buy them individually if he wants.
However, the pack with two pairs in it is cheaper. The only thing is they are just one colour. So, it's two pairs of black or two pairs of white. Got me?
Quite seriously, you would have thought he was having to decide whether or not to press the nuclear button that obliterates the world.
He stood there for what seemed like an eternity, just staring at the socks. Presumably trying to change the colour of one pair by some unique mind-control process he invented in his back shed.
Such was his intensity, and physical positioning, other customers were being scared away. At the very least they could not get past him to have a good look in the stall.
Eventually, he found a solution deep within the recesses of his brain. He would get the stallholder to open two packets and take one each of his required colour. Simple.
Unfortunately, the stallholder couldn't agree to that for some reason or another. The actual explanation I heard escapes me, but I recall thinking at the time it seemed quite reasonable.
The rejection of his idea then led to another five minutes of Sock Man staring silently at the wall at the packets of socks staring back.
Fortunately, the stallholder had been able to manoeuvre Sock Man a few paces to the left during their interaction and he was now safely out of the way so other customers could visit.
Eventually, he sauntered off without buying any socks at all. He certainly didn't manage to change the colour of any I saw still in packets on the wall.
I went to the loo 20 minutes later and saw him standing staring intently at a spa pool. I'm only surmising here, but I'm thinking he might have been trying to turn it a different colour.
Anyway.
Back at my stall I greet a happy-looking chap who has obviously been enjoying the delights of the food hall.
Jersey tied around his waist, he is ambling along with a napkin in each hand and one tucked into his shirt pocket. Each napkin contains a small, free sample of food. From memory, in one hand he has a chunk of burrito and in the other there is a selection of salamis. In his shirt pocket I can see a biscuit.
It turns out he's felt a bit peckish and has walked through the food hall on his way out to get some chips at the kiosk by the main entry.
As he's gone through the food hall he has been offered, and accepted, a variety of free samples to try as various stallholders peddle their wares.
He's wolfed them down as he's wandered through looking for his chips.
As he's got there, he has discovered the price of chips is a lot more than you'd pay at your average takeaway and he's not keen on that.
An idea then came to mind.
"I took my jersey off and tied it round me so I didn't look like the same person," he said grinning. "Then I walked back through the food hall and they gave me a whole load more of all this food for free!"
He wandered off chomping away, happy with his money-saving ruse while I wondered if maybe he'd go find a hat and try a third pass through the food hall.
Eventually, the day wore to a close and is the case with these things the crowds began to dwindle.
I took the opportunity for another nature call and headed for the facilities where I found an extremely tall man hopping from one leg to the other outside the door.
Adding to the mystery was the sight of another fellow briskly coming towards him with a step ladder.
Naturally, I stopped to watch what was going on.
It turns out the tall man was on stilts and had been wandering around all day providing entertainment to show-goers.
Unfortunately, he'd needed a wee for a while and was now busting (hence the hopping from one leg to the other), but couldn't get down from his high perch without help. Which was where the ladder-carrying assistant came in.
As I say. Only in small-town New Zealand.
