Sunday, August 8, 2010
My hubby took me out to lunch and they gave out a free takehome snack in one of their restaurant bags, so I was elected to carry that as we meandered our way back to the car. By "elected" I mean ... hubby nominated me, he voted and I won ... I am still not allowed to vote here so you get the idea .. yes I live in a dictatorship ....
So we walked into a store and lady came up and started a conversation that went something like, "can I help you?"
"Yes, maybe, do you have any daytimers?"
"MMhmm, yes we do, wow speaking of lunch, where did you eat?"
"Ummm .... the little Thai restuarant that just opened up over by the bank ..."
"Oh yes..." she was nodding vigorously and getting closer so I started talking fast...
"ya it was really good ... the food is really ...um .. nice ..." She was following me around the bin I was leafing through .. hyperventillating ....
"YES .. just don't go there when they are mopping the floors. We went when they were mopping the floors and this poor woman came in and fell on the wet floor and the guy mopping the floor, he just kept right on mopping and we were all like wow the poor woman I bet she is just so embarrassed to have fallen like that and why isn't he helping her? So we had to get up and go to her and ask, are you all right? and help her up and he just kept right on mopping ... tscht tscht tscht .... (her voice was getting louder and the pitch had almost reached screaming) and the thing is the water he was using wasn't even hot enough. Water to wash floors with should be so hot that it just evaporates immediately and then people don't slip .... especially if you are just going to keep right on mopping the floor when someone falls like that...you know .. really ...."
I nodded at her holding the "my little pony lap desk" between us, ready to use it as a weapon if I had to ... I looked for a means of escape, there was none ... my hubby .. he had abandoned me .. I was cornered by the floor washing monitor in a small town in Australia .. sure I was going to die ....
I fumbled for a daytimer, which happened to be right behind me on the shelf she had backed me into and said "I'll take this one .. thanks?.... I'll .. um .. just pay for it ... um .. over here ... " as I squeezed past her walked slowly until I hit the all clear space and then ran to the till, slapped down my 83.95 for a plain blue scribbler that said daytimer on it and had numbered pages and raced for the door.
Never underestimate the hunger of a small town clerk and the pressure to meet sales quota.
SKIN: Glam Affair
OUTFIT: Faster Pussycat