By David Leonhardt

A few days ago, I was signing copies of my book – Climb Your Stairway to Heaven: the 9 habits of maximum happiness – at the flea market. Nobody expects an author to sign books at a flea market. Some people sell a few worn-over books, but authors just don't do book signings at flea markets. Especially not books about finding happiness.

I've never been afraid to color outside the lines (even though my book is not a coloring book), to take the road less traveled, to wander off the beaten path and plunge headlong right over a cliff. Fortunately for me, the flea market is on low ground and I had the chance to learn a few things just watching people pass by.

Pop Quiz: Is it best to wedge your booth between other booths piled with junk, where nobody even notices you are there? Or is it better to have a booth out in the open away from the clutter, where people can easily see you and get to your booth?

I learned the hard way. My booth was out in the open away from the clutter, where experienced flea marketer audiences could easily pick up speed and swish right past at a zoomy 30 miles per hour. (But I was right next to a support beam, so at least I knew the roof wouldn't cave in on me.)

Apparently, the sales process at the flea market works like this:

Step one, some fool on a diet restricted to fried food actually stops to look at a toaster-oven with only three coils missing, completely blocking the aisle.

Step two, a traffic jam ensues as more people come along and form a barricade several people deep.

Step three, to relieve their boredom, the barricade people buy "treasures" they would gladly have passed by if they could just have picked up enough momentum to keep walking. Isn't that a lot like how "gurus" sell stuff on the Internet?

Step four, they go home and brag about their great "find" and how it cost them almost 14 cents less than any of the other "I survived my own cooking" commemorative t-shirts in their closet.

Thus I learned my second lesson. To sell anything, you have to slow folks down. So I stood in front of my booth to do just that.

"Free bookmark, sir?"

Sir hesitates, then takes the bookmark.

"It features the nine habits of maximum happiness."

Sir studies the bookmark.

"Same habits as in my book right here, sir."

Sir looks up at the display for a moment. Then he starts moving again, staring down at the bookmark, mumbling something under his breath and BANG! hits the support beam. "Ooh," I thought. "I hope that beam holds. It could get dangerous."

After a few dozen more "incidents", I decided to relocate, standing with my back to the beam so people would pass safely to one side. Don't kill your customers: a brilliant idea whose time had come...and the third lesson I learned at the flea market.

I went through the same routine with Broad-eyed Lady and her husband, except that she missed the beam. She continued walking as she read the 9 habits of happiness on the bookmark, then suddenly slapped it against her husband's chest. "Here. Read this," she commanded.

Ouch. That's gotta hurt. Good thing I was giving away bookmarks and not paperweights.

I thought Broad-eyed Lady was a unique character, until Hunched Old Lady did the same thing. And so did Spunky Crew-cut Girl. And Grizzly Guy, too. I guess it's easy to expect others to change, rather than ourselves.

In fairness, few people used my happiness bookmark as a domestic weapon, a fact the judge took into consideration later that day. He even commended me for not giving away paperweights.

But he did order me to recount, without looking at my notes, the lessons I had learned watching people at the flea market. Let's see ...

Slow down, or you'll never spend your kids' inheritance on priceless knick knacks.

Grab people's attention or they will just whiz by.

Don't kill your customers

Don't expect people to change for you, even if you do wield a loaded bookmark.

LEGAL NOTICE: This is a humor column. Not everything happened exactly as it is recounted. I was NOT responsible for any deaths, maiming, disfiguring, or other wounds at the flea market. I was responsible only for handing out book marks that actually were used as "weapons" by a couple of the characters I describe here.