Fairwil Sneak Peek: Shopping

      The saleslady stepped away from the register and grabbed a medium-sized bag with handles. “Got a nice back cut on this design. Not too revealing. Sporty, but you’ll still show off some freckles, if you’ve got ‘em, and your shoulders, too.” She searched my face. “And I just bet you do, if you don’t mind me saying. Have freckles, that is. I can see you have shoulders.”
     “That’s, uh. Not my issue. The overall sporty factor.” I frowned, then shrugged, then glanced around, then beamed. “I’m kissing someone under a diving board.” My volume dropped. “So I have to think about arm hole, um, dimensions. And how much coverage will be, like. Coveraging.”
      “Kissing someone under a diving board?” she repeated, perplexed. It was as if I had told her I had Saturn in my pocket, and all of its moons.
      I raised my arms to demonstrate, then flattened my hands and folded them inward.
      The saleslady nodded several times, thinking, as she opened the bag. “Does he or she know? This is going to happen? Because it seems to me kissing under a diving board is one of those silly spontaneous life kind of things, if you don't mind me saying. Not planned in advance.”
      "Do... they... know?" It took me about a half minute to stop laughing. I laughed so lavishly, with such eye-squelching tears and gaspy breaths, that she started to giggle, too, probably because she felt embarrassed that her customer was laughing all by herself. I wanted to thank the stranger for her kindness, because laughing along with someone, even when the punchline eludes you, is one of those perfect unsung acts we all perform without prodding.
      I couldn't wait to retell this uncomfortable moment to a few people, including a certain person who was at work next door at Farmers Market. I'd probably embellish the part when I asked the saleslady about the swimsuit's coverage, because I predicted that would be Sutton's favorite part of the story.
      She'd likely make me retell it twice.
      And my friend would totally know I was embellishing for her entertainment. And there's another perfect unsung human act: The obviously exaggerated anecdote, a tale made better purely for a pal's pleasure, even when the listener recognizes the obvious fictions.
      “Hello? Miss? Card or cash?”
      Surely having Saturn in my pocket, and all of its moons, would be far less strange than what was currently afoot.
      Or apool.
      But I didn't have Saturn in my pocket. When I reached inside, I only felt the ten dollar bill I still owed Gomery, the same ten dollars he vowed he'd never, ever take.
     We'll see.
       

source: amazon

 
Best Blogger TipsBest Blogger Tips