skip to main |
skip to sidebar
Ok Ok enough of the heavy stuff for awhile. I have decided to post something else entirely. I was scanning through others blogs and came across someone who had three strange encounters. I had to laugh because I could totally relate to "strange encounters" as a daily experience.
I swear I have a sign on me that says... "Please!!! Tell me your most personal intimate details... I care!"
I always have people, strangers, talking to me and telling me things I don't want to know. OR... Showing me things NO ONE wants to see.
Example:
I am shopping at Wal Mart ( I hate Wal Mart, It sucks the life out of you) Anyhow, I am shopping at Wal Mart looking at the PJ's When a little old woman walks up to me and asks me," Do you work here? Could you help me please! I need a new bra and can't find what I want."
Me: "I don't work here but I could help you find someone who does." (I always get asked if I work at places. I must look like I know what I am doing or maybe I look like I am trying to duck out of working... Could be either.)
Before I can leave and look for help she says, "That's okay, YOU can still help me, I don't mind."
Stunned I pause for a moment and look at her, wondering about the polite way to handle this situation.She didn't give me much time to think.
Old Woman: "I am looking for a bra like I have on." At which point she lifts up her sweatshirt to show me said Bra.
My thought... she was right, she desperately needed a new bra. With a crinkle in my brow I contemplate all exit strategies. None existed unless I wanted to crawl under the rack of PJ's. Somehow she had backed me into a corner, literally.
Not taking a chance I might drop to my hands and knees and crawl out of there she says, "Do you think they still have this brand? I don't even know what kind it is."
Me: clearing my throat and wishing she would drop her Sweatshirt back into place says, "I have no idea what brand it is, maybe you can go to the dressing room and see if it has a tag and get the information off of it." (This seemed to be a reasonable thought... and a chance for me to get the heck out of there.)
Old Lady : "Oh that's a good idea, Can you look for the tag and see what it is?" She turns her back to me so I can find the tag. (At least I no longer had to look at her... front)
At this point I can clearly see there isn't a tag. It was clear the tag had disintegrated from long wear and washings. Not only was the tag gone but so was most of the fabric of said bra.
"Mame, the tag is no longer there."
She laughs and says, "I may be 79 years old but you don't have to call me mame, My name is Violet." (Her top still lifted above your breast.)
Me: "Pleased to meet you." (I may have said this as a question... I'm not sure)
I told her my name but she never did call me anything but Sweetie and Dear.
In an desperate effort to get her to put her top back down I decide to help her look for SOMETHING. I was clearly not getting out of there and the damage to my psyche had already been done. The time with the therapist was already a guarantee. I might as well shorten that time by having the whole experience end as soon as possible.
I started looking for something she may be interested in and discovered she had no idea what her size was. So after a fairly long time of trying on bras of different style and size she finally found one she liked. And I must say it looked good on her. It lifted and separated... She was insistent on showing me every one of them. Some of which were absolutely hilarious, we both had a good laugh.
At some point the worker did come back to the area and the fitting rooms. I didn't even bother to let her take over, Violet and I had a special relationship by this time.
I suggested she write down the Style and Size on a piece of paper and keep it in her wallet. That way the next time she needed a new one she would have the information with her. Maybe too, she should get more than one. ..
Violet: "That is a fantastic idea! They should give you a raise you are so good!"
Me: "You have no idea..."
There were different colors she liked. So I helped her find the colors and sizes that fit her.
After about an hour and a half our time together was coming to an end. I felt somewhat saddened by this fact. Violet said goodbye with a hug and a kiss on the cheek. Going on her merry way with a handful of colorful ,sexy, lacy bras.
From time to time I see Violet at the store and around town. She never remembers who I am but for me... I will never forget her. How could I?
