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I Survived Landscape Industry Trade Show Article by Henry Siegel Copyright © 2003 by ProGardenBiz Summary: Humorous story about attending an industry trade show. Designed to entertain, but also to encourage trade show attendance.
This is city. Any City, Anywhere. Once a year thousands of professionals from all fields of Green Industry descend upon Convention Center for Anywhere Landscape Contractor Industry Trade show. In every state, every year, gardeners, landscape contractors, nurserymen, lawn care and grounds maintenance professionals will fill Great Halls of Commerce.
My name is Joe Friday. This is my partner Pete Gannon. Our job? To survive Landscape Industry Trade Show.
Wednesday, April 23rd
10:00am: The doors open. We walk in. We pass through a short hall pleasantly decorated with plants. Several landscaped displays with fountains, waterscapes, and ponds line hall. We turn corner and are face to face with Show Information Booth. Here they are eagerly handing out maps of showroom. We ignore them and pass into showroom unprepared. Our first mistake.
10:05am: A whirling, twirling display of color and people confronts us. A beautiful girl places a Hawaiian lei around my shoulders. Another is confronting Pete. Someone is explaining virtues of a large piece of lawn mowing equipment. I keep my eye on Pete. They've got a pen in his hand.
11:15am: We managed to break away from Hawaii, but it was expensive. Our new lawn care equipment trailer arrives next week. Unless they check Pete's credit. My saving grace.
11:45am: I am spinning a large wheel with numbers on it. To either side of me Las Vegas type dealers are throwing cards out to players at a "21" table. Is this legal here?
11:46am: Pete is shouting "Blackjack, Blackjack!!" Someone is stuffing a package of some kind in my arms. They have my card. I'm told they will call me next week. Pete is signing some papers. I grab his collar as salesman informs him that lawn mower and edger will be delivered on Monday. I sigh relief as I see salesman putting away credit agreement. I check for Pete's wallet. It's still there.
12:00pm: We get into line for lunch.
1:00pm: We pick up our lunch and head for a table. We sit down. The face across table is familiar. A salesman! I eat fast. As I gobble my last bite I notice Pete smearing mustard on his shirt as he is franticly grabbing at his pen. I grab him by ear and leave.