Sunday, April 15, 2007

maybe they know each other

I've been wearing Ukiah's shoes- Keen sandals. One, because I seem to have lost my flip-flops (somewhere in California?) and two because he finds shoes completely unnecessary. I've also been wearing the same pair of pants at least 4 days a week since December. Aside from the fading and the button I had to replace, and considering I bought them at Value Village, they've held up pretty well. I pushed them a step too far at Mt. Lemmon. A jagged boulder too far, really, and they split a couple inches at the right hip. My sewing kit is an Altoids box, no maroon thread. Grey stitches it is. And that would have been fine, gotten me through another four months if needed. Except that in helping some friends move, we had to make a stop at the Goodwill today.

We unloaded a desk, chairs, Halloween decorations, a tripod and asked for a receipt.

Nothing, nothing, nothing. And by nothing I mean nothing practical that will fit in the Rubbermaid box Aslin and I share as our dresser. A light, layered turquoise and black skirt has me considering sending a package home, briefly. The racks show every sign of resistance to segregation- refusing to be organized by size, color, style. But this particular store is unscented- none of the bug-bomb odor that so often oppresses thrift store air. I skim the aisles for greens and browns. The occasional orange catches my eye.

Ahead of me at the register, a 5-foot tall Hispanic woman rotates one of the thick gold chains on her neck. She pulls bags of plastic toys from her cart and tucks a short stray hair behind her ear. Gold and beaded bracelets slide half way to her elbow.

"Those are nice earrings," the cashier comments, brushing her own bleached bangs to the side.

The Goodwill shopper takes out her left earring, a dazzling rectangle stud. Cubic zirconia? She hands it across the counter, nods and waits for the accepting hand.

"Yes, very nice," the cashier approves, smiling one chipped tooth through painted thin lips, she offers to return the earring.

"For you. Muy bonita, si?" The Grandmother removes the second stud.

"Really?" No pause. "Gracias!" A Caucasian, very mid-west, three-syllabled 'gra-see-ass'. Ms. Nebraska leans into the counter, a single arm hug and kiss on the cheek.

"Si. Nuevo, for you. Is no problem," The woman admires as the employee guides the pair into the first of her three ear holes.

Ms. Nebraska rings the final bag of toys while Grandma writes a check.

"Can I see your ID?" She records the birthdate of her benefactor and together they double bag a collection of Happy Meal prizes.

I left with pair of cords (a different shade of maroon), olive green shorts and the mystery of apparent strangers sharing earrings. $6.98.


Anonymous said...


ich hab mal wieder ne gute Adresse gefunden. Unter hab

ich für meine Eltern Heizöl bestellt...ging schnell und einfach. Kann ich nur

empfehlen.Es gibt unter auch Heizöl Plus, Biodiesel

und alle anderen Energieträger. Schaut auch mal in den Shop...interessante Angebote dort!

Viele Grüße Daniel

owlhouse said...

My translator widget did not help me make much sense of this. Something about- parent's fuel oil change and you can too. Anyone looking for what may be German biodiesel?

Amanda said...

My German is pretty rusty, but I think he said, "Buy just enough fuel to get you home to Seattle. You don't want to live somewhere else. These aren't the droids you're looking for."

owlhouse said...

Is this because you need moving help, Amanda?

It's true, we don't want to live anywhere else, but extended visits are right up our alley!

May the Force be with you.