Crazy Fortunate Gift

Just came back from a fun promotional event. I was promoting 4 Seasons in 4 Weeks (4s4w) of course, but had my books at the same table as my hula sister/nieces, Jennifer Pualeilani Kahananui, Ashley Kakielekea Rehder, Melea, and Sheri Croy, Hula Girl at Art, who were selling their wares and doing a fundraiser. Such beauties.

It was Women’s Night at Sportsman’s Warehouse. Seemed like a super odd marriage for an event, but every person I spoke to was very cool and the vibe was great. Made some nice connections. The organizers did a great job. Glad I went.

As I cruised around looking at other vendor booths, the raffle ticket people yelled out to me from their table to get a ticket, especially since the tickets were free. Of course I jumped on that. Toward the end of the night I could hear them doing the raffle and remembered that I actually had my name in the barrel so headed over to the other side of the store where the action was happening.

I have this crazy fortunate gift for winning raffles (never the lottery, but I tend to win stuff at events), so when I walked up I actually realized that they might call out my name. No, that they WERE going to call out my name. They had some cool clothes in the raffle so I got kind of excited about the prospect and called in my raffle winning angels for good measure. I swear, I really do actually win a lot of the time.

I was ready and I could feel my name coming. But then they announced the next prize, which happened to be a…..gun. Wait, what? A gun?? A partially pink pistol to be sort of exact. Plus, you’d have your picture taken with said gun! I was both amused and horrified at the same time, but mainly started reeling my raffle angels back in pronto. I didn’t know how I’d explain my Sarah Palin photo to my audience and friends. Not that I’m against target shooting – I do love that. Give me some ear protectors and a .22 and I’m a pretty good shot. But not feeling like I need to win and own a gun. I actually began thinking that I could sell it and give the proceeds to a charity. But what if the person I sold it to turned out to be a whacko? Decided I wasn’t comfortable with that scenario either. Then there was the problem of being ungrateful, picky, and snobbish. For sure if I had a gun, I wouldn’t want it to be pink and that’s no attitude to have when you win a prize.

This was, indeed, a dilemma.

So who’s name do you think they called out?
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No. Thank goodness my raffle angels obliged and deflected that win. I walked back to my table feeling a little shell shocked over the experience. It’s times like these when I know I’ve been sheltered in artist/hippie communities way too long. And to be clear, I’m not against those who hunt with honor, but it’s not for me. I’m grateful that my hobby is busting out a hula dance here and there.

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