she walked with a purpose up the driveway. beelined her way towards the oodles of shoes that my sister was selling. and remarked, "that's not MY car."
well ... ok. i thought. looks like the crazies are out garage saleing already today.
i contemplated sharing some random bit of information about myself ...
this isn't MY garage!
i like cake!
i'm not wearing any underwear!
just so that she didn't feel all alone in her cuckooishness.
she grabbed a pair of shoes off of the makeshift shelf that my mama and i created ...
(next week - come on back for the DIY instructions. you'll need 2 chairs and a piece of wood.)
"how much are these shoes," she questioned.
"um. 2 dollars," i replied with a vanna white motion towards the sign on the wall.
"i wouldn't pay 2 dollars," she said ... "that's not MY car."
"those aren't MY shoes," i said.
i told her they were my sister's and that i was fairly positive my sister didn't want to take less considering that i had just opened the garage door.
she walked away from the shoes and browsed the rest of the
"that's not MY car," she said AGAIN.
(what the fuck? i thought in my head. as i looked at the NOT HER CAR. with what i can only presume were NOT HER CHILDREN monkeying around on the NOT HER SEATS.)
"it's my brother's car. he let me borrow it to go shopping. but then i saw the sign that said garage sale. and he doesn't know i'm here. but i guess i'm shopping. he let's me borrow the car to go shopping. i don't have a car. so that's not my car."
i politely acknowledged her
"i couldn't afford a blah blah blah kind of car, like that ... that's not MY car. it's my brother's car. he lets me borrow it to go shopping. it's not MY car. don't go thinking that that is MY car. 'cause it's not. it's not MY car."
i may have rolled my eyes just a little as she walked back towards the shoes.
"how much did you say these were?"
"i wouldn't pay two dollars."
"my sister wants to sell them for two dollars."
"i'd only pay 50 cents. or one dollar tops."
"my sister wants to ask two dollars. if you want less. you'll have to talk to her."
"that's not MY car."
"she'll be here later if you want to come back."
"i'm not coming back here ... i can't believe you ever thought i would come back."
"that's NOT my car," she noted as she slipped her foot into the shoe. again.
"what size are these?"
"i'm not really sure ... maybe you could just LOOK?"
"it says seven. are these a seven?"
"i'm assuming if it says seven ... it IS a seven. but i'm not really a shoe EXPERT."
"that's NOT. MY. CAR."
"i wouldn't pay two dollars for these. see," she noted as she pointed to a miniscule scuff on the front toe of the left shoe.
"fine," i said. "then DON'T pay two dollars. but that's how much they are."
i was feeling a bit perturbed at this point.
she set them down ON THE BOOKSHELF and walked around. AGAIN.
"remember, that's not my car."
(DIY shoe shelf tomorrow. don't forget.)
"put them back," she yelled, motioning to the BOOKSHELF.
"i AM," i responded, motioning to the SHOE SHELF.
she followed me. and put them on again. and asked what size shoe i wore.
i didn't answer her.
she told me she wears a size six. but these are a size seven. do i think they look big?
considering her heel was hanging off the back ... i said, "no."
"because if they were a size six," she said ... "i would take them. for a dollar. at most."
and that, my friends?
is when she asked me if i HAD THEM IN A SIZE SIX.
this is a GARAGE SALE.
and in case you were wondering?
the shoes are still available.
for two dollars.
and i don't really give a shit what kind of car you drive and if it really is or is not your car. unless you stole the car. then i really think you should return it before spending two dollars on a pair of shoes.
the large lady thing in the first picture is also still available. for free.