I do more henna, relax, and let Shanon and Zimra do the bulk of the work and collect the bulk of the money. The clients are steady, but there's seldom more than 1 or 2 waiting in line. It's drizzly, so we get out the blow dryers to crusty-up the henna. We are on the same electric drop as a funnel cake vendor, and every time their deep-fat fryer thermostat kicks in, it blows out the dryers. First time we've gotten our promised electricity, and it STILL doesn't work right!
I sling a few patterns Shanon and Zimra can't do, and booth bitch so Gwyn can go backstage to get her CD signed by all the band members. She comes back giggly and pleased. I'm glad to see Shanon's got steady slinging to do. She's had a helluva time breaking even. Speed is the only way to make money here ... speed I've got.
I go to the lunch place, and pass the police/med tent. A drunk headbanger, knuckles and tshirt splashed with blood, is handcuffed to a wheelchair. He's whining to 3 girls to "not tell" the police anything. The girls look ashamed, annoyed, cooperative, and are talking to an officer with a notebook! As the afternoon passes, 3 more guyz are escorted out by security, 2 in handcuffs.