October 24, 2013
I glance in my purse to
pull out my snazzy multi-shaded pink wallet and have a flashback to the top of
the coffee table where it sits, still, in the silence of the duplex, after I
purchased an ad on-line, and failed to place it back in its spot. Drat! The
ladies at the register grimace in disappointment with me, stating they cannot
hold the merchandise and are sorry. I am tempted to stuff the darling black
hat, perfect for walking the dog late at night, warm and cozy around my flush
new hairdo, into the recesses of a pair of scuffy men’s boots to hide them from
the world until I can return, two days from now. I refrain, sighing with despair.
The ladies wish me a goodnight and I babble not to mention this to the cops,
who may be stalking women drivers who have left their licenses behind in a
hurry to get to the consignment store to look for heavy winter drapery and a
snuggly hat before heading to work.
I decide, after my four
hours of cooking, cleaning, walk-thru shower procedures and laundry for my
little old lady, I cannot subject my
Portuguese Meet-Up group, who will be at D’Micos for dinner and stilted, grammatically
incorrect conversation, to counting out seven dollars in change for a glass of
wine and selecting food bits from their plates since I am starved. I head on
home to first feed the animals, then myself and feel weary about the
circumstances. I choose to speak in Portuguese to myself throughout the rest of
the night, save time with a friend in Port Townsend, WA who might lose the
story in translation on the phone.
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