Because I long for yesteryear.

Because I long for yesteryear.


Monday mornings tend to suck for me. Anything that can go wrong usually will. Some of you will respond to that statement with diatribes on self fulfilling prophecies and to you all I can say is COME LIVE MY MONDAYS THEN. Hee! Go on with my bad self.

SO. Yesterday was no exception and if anything even worse than a typical Monday because I cut my legs in no less than 3 places while shaving. Bad words may have been shouted? Ask the dog. To top it all off I was out of coffee, out of toothpaste (ever brush with scope? Not too bad actually), out of milk and running late.

I hit the neighborhood Walgreens for a protein bar and a decent razor (lest I forget on the way home and have to experience the whole shower shouting debacle again the next morning) and joined the long line of other “in a hurry didn’t really have time to stop” people at the cash register.

Y’all know how that goes. There will always be that ONE person who isn’t in the same hurry as the rest of us and either counts out their money in pennies or has to buy cigarettes and can’t for the life of them figure out which ones they want.

Yesterday’s not-in-a-hurry special of the day was coupon lady. You know who Imean. The one who insists the coupon in the weekly flyer really is for the item she wants to purchase that does not look remotely like the picture in the ad.

“Now young man. See here. This product has clearly been repackaged and some youngster at the company who should really learn to pay attention to detail used an old graphic,” she explained.

I was beyond annoyed so I restrained myself by observing this lady more carefully. She was one of those women whose age you can’t begin to guess. Ranging between 60 and 110 with perfectly coiffed hair, pristine make up (with the lipstick bleeding ever so slightly into the wrinkles) and sensible shoes to match her ever-so-proper outfit. She was doing the raised eyebrows and pursed lip face at the kid behind the counter and right then and there I decided that I absolutely loved her!

Even being 3 customers behind her I could smell that dignified and rich perfume that these well to do older types love to wear. She had perfectly manicured nails that tapped ever so emphatically on the circular as she made her case, and she was wearing a wedding ring on her right hand like many widows tend to do these days.

She finished off her lecture on the value of a dollar and when the cashier still denied her the 30 cent savings she decided she’d had enough and would not donate her money to Walgreens ever again. She proudly walked to the door, turned around with a pointed look and said, “Good Day Sir!” as huffily as one can while still being the epitome of polite and classy.

Love! Pure love! I want to be that grand some day!

So the rest of us continued on with our coupon-less purchases and as each person left they turned back and did the “Good Day Sir!” salute from the door.

This has been a pointless story brought to you by the letter W and a girl who longs for Friday.

Good Day Sir!


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