So I'm putting together my costume for Halloween last night, and used up almost two full cans of flat white spray paint, in an enclosed garage (at four in the morning - It is beginning to scare me how little sleep I really need). Had to hold my breath for about half an hour, and got a headache like I haven't had since the last time I drank shots of Jagermeister with the Jagerettes on St. Patrick's Day... but I digress.

Anyway, I stopped in at the local fabric store in Brooklyn Park, Harris something-or-other, and my out-of-body-experience went something like this.

"Can I help you?" asked the older lady behind the counter.

"Yeah," I said, "I'm looking for a polyeurothene-based synthetic leather, nicknamed Pleather. Have you heard of it?"

Long pause. A second woman comes over to help/eavesdrop.

"Sure."

Another pause, and a more-than-cursory inspection, not unlike my Drill Sergeant would perform just before a formation. They probably think I'm a City Inspector or with 'Americas Funniest Home Videos' or something. At least, I don't think I look like a terrorist.

"What, um, what color were you looking for?"

I now notice a third woman whose job seems to be to get as close to this conversation as possible without getting caught. She isn't very good at it.

"White," I say as casually as possible.

"OH!" Both ladies gasp in unison, their hands shooting to cover their mouthes as thought I had suddenly contracted the Avian Flu. The third lady pretends not to be shocked as well, (because she isn't really listening) but clearly catches about a quarter inch of air.

"Its over there," she said, pointing with her other hand, the one not covering her mouth.

Weird. The rest of the clientelle were buying floral-print fabrics which would work equally well for a hideous sundress, or as hideous curtains for a sunroom on the cover of Country Home Magazine, and they are looking at me like I was asking to purchase several yards of Human Flesh. They didn't even ask me what I was intending to use two yards of white pleather for.

Then they would have had the right to be shocked.

Heh.

Strap on,
-C

Labels: A Day In The Life