Honest-to-Betsy, Pumpkins, suppliers don’t know what to do with you. I often hear them lament “Ivanna, what do I do? I’ve tried everything short of stalking agents, and they continue to ignore me.” It’s sad really.
They prefer and ply Pumpkin consortia with marketing funds, conference fees and alcoholic beverages. But you, my dahrlings, remain aloof. It’s the same complaint my husbands make: “The more I dish out, the more you set your attentions on other suitors.”
My dear old Baba used to tell me, “It’s one thing to play hard to get, Ivannochka, but don’t end up like the donkey who starved to death waiting for oats while hay lay at his feet.” I tried to assure her that I regularly lay in the hay, which didn’t help at all.
I think the point is that you can only milk a supplier so many times before it dries up. Don’t be surprised if they buck, my little asses.
