Some days, a situation leaves you speechless. But this day, I actually WAS speechless! A recent bout of strep throat left me without a voice. But as fate would have it... this is one day that a voice would have been most helpful.
I answered the ad for a local shop specializing in vintage, recycled and art. Boy, sounds like my kind of place. And just down the road too! So, I popped in to absorb some inspiration, and perhaps drop a bit of cash.
There I met Mary.
My years of hairdressing immediately grasped a head of hair, bleached to the end of its life. Heavy "cat's eye' make-up accentuated her suspiciously narrowed eyes. But her physical appearance was nothing compared to the waves of animosity that flowed from her petite fame. She had recognized me as being a vendor from another local show. Ok... there is nothing wrong with that. As an artist, I maintain a monthly curcuit of 5 to 7 shows. But this pushy pansy started to accuse me of showing up to her show merely to steal her ideas.
My whispered voice did nothing to match her frantic screech. After a good 5 minutes of her diatribe I was able to cut in to my defense. I asked her if she remembered my work. While I doubt that she actually did, she claimed that she knew it well. I then asked her in my scratchy voice, how in the hell would someone that specialized in cashmere zombies with exposed brains compete with "romantic french country"? Unable to answer, she huffed off. The encounter leaving me with the makings of...
I answered the ad for a local shop specializing in vintage, recycled and art. Boy, sounds like my kind of place. And just down the road too! So, I popped in to absorb some inspiration, and perhaps drop a bit of cash.
There I met Mary.
My years of hairdressing immediately grasped a head of hair, bleached to the end of its life. Heavy "cat's eye' make-up accentuated her suspiciously narrowed eyes. But her physical appearance was nothing compared to the waves of animosity that flowed from her petite fame. She had recognized me as being a vendor from another local show. Ok... there is nothing wrong with that. As an artist, I maintain a monthly curcuit of 5 to 7 shows. But this pushy pansy started to accuse me of showing up to her show merely to steal her ideas.
My whispered voice did nothing to match her frantic screech. After a good 5 minutes of her diatribe I was able to cut in to my defense. I asked her if she remembered my work. While I doubt that she actually did, she claimed that she knew it well. I then asked her in my scratchy voice, how in the hell would someone that specialized in cashmere zombies with exposed brains compete with "romantic french country"? Unable to answer, she huffed off. The encounter leaving me with the makings of...
Title: "Mary Has A Snit Fit"
Contents: Cashmere sweater, wool sweater, "green" wool roving
Status: Adopted by a very brave, patient woman. I wish you luck.
She reminds me of my niece. Oy vey!
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