E-Mail This Article to a Friend Where Bush goes, commerce follows BY CAMILLE DODERO

THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER 2, 2004, NEW YORK -- It was quarter of noon on the corner of Park Avenue and 38th Street and President Bush was in mass at the Our Church of Our Savior. Even though the cops, the Secret Service men, and the NYPD blimp overhead had created a spectacle, his arrival had been anticlimactic: a few cars pulled up, suits appeared, then disappeared into a white tent set up beside the church. From this side of the street, you couldn't really tell which one he was. Everyone, even the protestors chanting, "Bush lies, People die!" seemed disappointed.

Carol Zuckerman was bummed out too. Since this past Saturday, Zuckerman has been walking around the streets, selling political buttons from her "booth" -- a folded piece of thick cardboard with ducktape around the edges. This morning, the Manhattan resident had heard the President would be at this church. And since where Bush goes, commerce follows, Zuckerman figured his brief appearance would draw both adoring Bush fans and vociferous protestors, impassioned types who'd be willing to spend $3 a pop for the chance to wear the words I ONLY SLEEP WITH DEMOCRATS or the no-pun-intended WOMEN FOR BUSH on their chests.

So far during the RNC, the street saleswoman had sold "hundreds and hundreds" of political pins. Her biggest sellers were: Kerry Edwards 2004 campaign button (the tasteful choice), the letter 'W' with a slash through it (a simple, direct option), and a square button of Ronald Reagan and George W. Bush that professes, "My Heroes Have Always been Cowboys" (the yeehaw redneck selection). Her mobile catalogue also included such gems as FRIENDS DON'T LET FRIENDS VOTE REPUBLICAN, NOBODY DIED WHEN CLINTON LIED, and Bush's face on a slice of whole-wheat toast. ("He's toast, get it?" she says.) But this morning, sales had been slow. So she considered heading to Union Square, where political dissent had been earning her money all week.

Zuckerman doesn't see her street sales as either disrespectful or commercializing politics. "I feel like I'm doing a good deed," said Zuckerman. "I giving people something they want: a way to express themselves. I'm helping the political process."

Best of all, Zuckerman says her job has perks. "I've gotten to meet a lot of cool people," she says. For example, George Pataki. "Actually, I wouldn't say I met him. It was a luncheon for him. I saw him and he said 'Hi.' I don't know if that counts as meeting him."

Plus, she's getting attention. Just today, two television stations and two radio stations have interviewed her. "I can't believe I'll be on TV for selling pins," Zuckerman says. "I didn't brush my hair this morning or even put on lipstick. I must look so bad."

A pudgy woman with red-tinted hair and a face full of makeup who'd watched Zuckerman get interviewed by WHDH Channel 7 agreed. "You should go to the beauty shop," the woman said. "Before you get interviewed again."

"Oh my god," said Zuckerman. "She just said I look ugly!" But instead of getting offended, Zuckerman sensed an opportunity. "So are you a Bush supporter?"

"Only people with an IQ below 100 are Bush supporters," said the woman, a New Yorker who wouldn't identify herself. ("I'll give you my opinions, not my name.")"Oh, well, then, look at these great anti-Bush buttons. How about this one: A village somewhere in Texas is missing its idiot?"

"I like the NO C.A.R.B. DIET one," she says. "No Cheney, Ashcroft, Rumsfeld, Bush. That's funny. How much?"

"One for three." Zuckerman paused. "But for you, I'll cut you a deal. Two for five."