Foxglove
11-24-2012, 09:40 AM
Dear Faithful Reader,
In the last episode of "The Adventures of Annabelle", I recounted the trouble I was having adjusting from my old name ("Blah-dee-blah") to my new one. I'm afraid my confusion was further compounded this morning when I went out shopping for clothes.
In our little town we have two charity shops, and I'd always wanted to go in to see if they had anything of interest. But I didn't dare do that before I came out, because to go shopping in drab in places like that in this little town would be effectively outing myself. But now that I'm out and about and properly attired, I'm free to go in and look around--and even try stuff on, right?
I went into the first shop and found two jackets and two skirts that I thought might do me. Alas! when I tried them on, one of the jackets was too small and both of the skirts were too big. I decided to take the other jacket, though, since at €12 I thought it was a good bargain.
The woman at the counter agreed. "Oooooh! This is a Betty Barclay! Do you know Betty Barclay? She's one of the big designers. Just google "Betty Barclay" and you'll find loads of stuff on her. It's really good of people to bring us stuff like this. If you went up to Marian's looking for a jacket like this, you'd pay a lot of money for it. Just google "Betty Barclay", and you'll see what I mean. . ."
While she was going on in this vein, another woman who's known about the shop came in.
First woman: Oooooh, Mags! This is a Betty Barclay.
Mags (to me): Hello, Betty!
First woman: No, I was just explaining to the lady that this jacket is a Betty Barclay.
So we had a good laugh. And before I could finally get out the door, she urged me at least twice more to google "Betty Barclay"--which I haven't done yet.
I went up to the other shop and found three skirts that were perfect: long, well below the knee, perfect winter wear for a middle-ager like me. I was thinking, "Good! Maybe I won't be stuck in trousers too often this winter. I wouldn't want that, would I?"
I asked the woman at the counter how much she wanted for them. She consulted the price list, pondered deeply for a minute and finally pronounced, "Six euros." I assumed she meant six each. Nope, six for the three of them. I took them.
When I went into the supermarket, I found that people were still calling me "Annabelle". So, Dear Reader, what's it to be: "Betty" or "Annabelle"? Find out in the next exciting episode of. . . "The Adventures of Annabelle".
Best wishes,
What's-her-face
In the last episode of "The Adventures of Annabelle", I recounted the trouble I was having adjusting from my old name ("Blah-dee-blah") to my new one. I'm afraid my confusion was further compounded this morning when I went out shopping for clothes.
In our little town we have two charity shops, and I'd always wanted to go in to see if they had anything of interest. But I didn't dare do that before I came out, because to go shopping in drab in places like that in this little town would be effectively outing myself. But now that I'm out and about and properly attired, I'm free to go in and look around--and even try stuff on, right?
I went into the first shop and found two jackets and two skirts that I thought might do me. Alas! when I tried them on, one of the jackets was too small and both of the skirts were too big. I decided to take the other jacket, though, since at €12 I thought it was a good bargain.
The woman at the counter agreed. "Oooooh! This is a Betty Barclay! Do you know Betty Barclay? She's one of the big designers. Just google "Betty Barclay" and you'll find loads of stuff on her. It's really good of people to bring us stuff like this. If you went up to Marian's looking for a jacket like this, you'd pay a lot of money for it. Just google "Betty Barclay", and you'll see what I mean. . ."
While she was going on in this vein, another woman who's known about the shop came in.
First woman: Oooooh, Mags! This is a Betty Barclay.
Mags (to me): Hello, Betty!
First woman: No, I was just explaining to the lady that this jacket is a Betty Barclay.
So we had a good laugh. And before I could finally get out the door, she urged me at least twice more to google "Betty Barclay"--which I haven't done yet.
I went up to the other shop and found three skirts that were perfect: long, well below the knee, perfect winter wear for a middle-ager like me. I was thinking, "Good! Maybe I won't be stuck in trousers too often this winter. I wouldn't want that, would I?"
I asked the woman at the counter how much she wanted for them. She consulted the price list, pondered deeply for a minute and finally pronounced, "Six euros." I assumed she meant six each. Nope, six for the three of them. I took them.
When I went into the supermarket, I found that people were still calling me "Annabelle". So, Dear Reader, what's it to be: "Betty" or "Annabelle"? Find out in the next exciting episode of. . . "The Adventures of Annabelle".
Best wishes,
What's-her-face