Only The Lonely

Last week I gave out my email address to a complete stranger. Oh, we’d stood next to one another in the checkout line at Publix, but I don’t even know her first name. It started with a D. Dianne? Denise? Desiderata? Surely I’d have remembered that one.

Lonely people do odd things, like speaking to ourselves and answering our own questions out loud. “What do you think of this shirt?” “Nice, but it might be a little tight.” “You think so?” “Yea.” All me. All true.

We say odd things to waiters: “Is this the only menu you have?” “I really like your Muzak!” “Yeehaw, this is good!” Ok, I made that last one up.

We make odd observations aloud: “Hey, you have really cool ankles!” “I wish I had your cowlick!” “Today’s gonna be a good day!”

We try to make eye contact with people who look to be in our general age range, give or take 30 years. Yesterday I got into a meaningful conversation with a nice lady over a shoe sale at Dillards. I really think we could’ve been best friends, but then the woman’s great-great granddaughter gave me a look of pity before wheeling her out of my range.

Now, I’ve always been odd. Being lonely just amplifies it. Honestly, I like my own company, but it would be nice to have someone to hang out with at the beach or to go shopping with while Studly plays golf.

That’s all for now. I think myself and I will go to Goodwill. Lots of nice people there.

Peace, People

Shopping Lust

I’ve heard it said that in the heat of battle a warrior falls prey to battle lust, ignoring injuries and damning consequences. This intense involvement in the fight allows him to soldier on until the adrenaline fades and he has either won, or lost, the day. Shopping can be a lot like that. Really.

You see, we’ve needed bedding for awhile now, and every time I’m in a department store I venture into the rows of pretty comforters and quilts hoping to find just the right thing, in the right color, at the right price. We have one of those huge king beds that requires oversize bedding. When one purchases a comforter, bed skirt, decorative pillows, and shams the cost can be considerable. Some I looked at cost more than my first car. No joke.

Today I found a sale. A glorious bedding sale at Macy’s. Fifty percent off select styles. Note the word “select.” Now, I’m not one for buying a matched set when it comes to bedding. I like to mix it up. The sales lady and I were running around her department like Vikings caught up in our glorious battle. Soon I’d found a great coverlet in an extra large size. She spotted some shams and pillows and I scored the bed skirt. We laid them out and and gloated over our finds, reveling in our shopping prowess. I might have raised my hands in drunken victory. It was all so darned pretty!

We chatted merrily as Melva (we became quite good friends) rang it all up. I paid with my credit card. We congratulated ourselves some more. Then I carried all of my purchases out of the mall and to my car. Happily I began driving away.

That’s when the shopping lust faded and reality set in. I’d spent how much? I pulled over at the Sonic drive in and ordered a large diet cherry limeade to calm me down. I dug through my purse to find my receipt. Of all the things I’d bought, only one, the deep purple decorative pillow, was “select.” Blinded by shopping lust I forgot to look for “select.” Damn “select!”

So, what do I do? Drive home and explain to Studly that I was overcome by lust and it’ll never, ever happen again? Return everything and look for “select” styles? Maybe I should sleep on it. After all, I have new bedding.

Peace, People!

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