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Friday, December 07, 2007

Bamb Yesterday I was walking through the mall. I was searching for this little celtic nativity scene I saw in the card shop last year. So I meandor in. Look everywhere. It's nowhere to be found. I have this absent look on my face. I can feel it. The lady behind the counter sees it too and asks me if I need any help. I tell her. She's says, "I know what you're talking about. Yeah. We didn't get that one in this year." So my quaint idea of this adition to the alter in my room was gone. Walking out, I see the 'long-haired hippie'. We talk for a while. He was looking at something for his boy for Christmas. So I left. Then it happened. I was caught. One of those island people in the mall caught me. I was struck by her unmistakably Hebrew accent. Also, I've always been a sucker for dark, straight black hair. She had both; the proverbial one-two punch. Proper mall knowledge dictates that if you value time and wallet that you avoid these people. The siding and gutter people are easy enough. "I don't own a house," and suddenly you are the least important person in the world. This time it was different. "I'm sure you have an important lady in your life." "No," was all I could say. All I could think of was relationship girls. Understandable in the face of ethnic beauty. "A mom? Sister?" Oh year. I'd kinda forgotten about them. Dang it. I looked as a dumb ox. She knew it. She sunk her fangs in. She asked for my had. Hers was soft; undoubtably from her countless dealings with the special lotion imported from Israel. She struggles to say Pennsylvania, just as I now struggle to spell it. It was to die for. Literally. If I'd died at that moment it would have not been devoid of a smile. She can see me looking away. I'm doing it because I'm weak right now. "I can see your uncomfortable." No. I'm too comfortable to be comfortable. The block she gives me is apparently a sander. She goes to town on my thumb. I'm putty in the soft yet assertive hands. My thumbnail, twenty-four hours later, is remarkedly shiny. It was made so in a matter of seconds. I know I need to go at this point. So I agree to buy one. She's taken aback that I'm ready even though I haven't seen her whole presentation, but she concedes. As she begins to tap on the touch screen register, a sure reason to notice I'm probably being heavily over charged, she whispers. She says it's Chanukkah, and they being a Jewish company, have a deal. My only thought, crap. Buy two more and get two others free. I grimace on the inside. I can say no to this. She whispers even softer, "Tell you what. Buy one more, and I'll give you another free. I'm whispering so he," motioning to I believe her older brother, "doesn't hear." So I ask how much. Eighty dollars. Here I am spending 80$ on hand lotion and nail files. Before I leave she gives me the rest of her presentation. Shows me how to clean the block and such. I finally gain my freedom, but at what cost?