So, it was a Saturday. I headed out to the local liquor store for reinforcements.
“Reinforcements for what” you ask?
Well. What if it rains so hard….for so long….that there’s a mudslide which envelops my entire dwelling and renders us unable to leave said residence for…like, a month?? What if I run out of wine?
You see my conundrum.
The owner’s name is Ira (yes, I’ve mentioned him before. Yes, I have. Yes, I have….times infinity…you know who you are.)…and we love Ira. Ira knows his wines…Ira orders my Cloudy, even though he doesn’t particularly care for it….Ira has wine tastings every Saturday! He’s been known on several occasions to allow yours truly more than the prerequisite amount normally ascertained in a typical tasting. We looooove Ira.
After making my selections and sufficiently swirling, sniffing and otherwise snorting up the day’s taste-offerings, I’m standing at the counter with Ira. Lowering his voice and speaking out of the corner of his mouth, Ira softly says “Do you want to see some antiques?” And he's pulling out a card from behind the register and writing something on it and I'm thinking "Is he talking to me? Why the hell is he whispering? And, what's wrong with his mouth? Does he have some form of Bells Palsy?"...and so, drawing on my fine command of the English language, I say nothing...which seemed entirely appropriate.
So he says, "It's the highlight of the whole summer. It's by invitation only....here. This'll get you in. Go. You're definitely dressed for it." (I'm wearing my Michael Kors dark wash straight-leg jeans, snakeskin wedge sandals, and a Michael Kors white tank w/brass kinda-button thingies around the scoop neck. Of course I look good....I’m a walking ad for Michael Kors….or Macy’s, at the very least.) I kiss Ira on the cheek, murmur my thanks and hit da road.
Highlights:
- an oriental rug that I really liked and inadvertently stepped on. Price tag read $18k (now reduced to $17.5k)
- a little American flag on a wooden stick (like they have at parades…only older than us…maybe the 1920’s?)...a mere $425.
- a wall decoration of a head of an (apparently) inebriated Scottish gentleman, according to the tag. You may keep your remarks about how I was inadvertently drawn to it to yourselves. Price: $1300.
- a pretty painting of a little boy gazing into a stream. Price: $2625, but it had a bug on the frame. I was tempted to ask if there was a discount 'cause of the bug. I didn't.
- an old, rusted metal bench from some park in Minnesota. The sign said it was "very comfortable". Price? $16k. I was afraid to sit on it, even though the guy said I could. I kept thinking, “How comfortable could it really be?”
All in all, a lovely afternoon. I’d hardly noticed those discrete security guards making sure I didn't try and abscond with that $1395 sign that said "DRUGS".
I left empty-handed, except for the little booklet some nice lady gave me when I handed over my super-superior, extra-special Ira-invitation. Now I'll always have a little booklet as a memory of this special day.
Did I mention that antiques really aren’t my thing?
