White Pleather Is Not A Crime
Last night I was putting together my costume for Halloween. I used up almost two full cans of flat white spray paint, in an enclosed garage, at four in the morning. (It’s beginning to scare me how little sleep I really need.) I held 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?” An older lady behind the counter asked.
“Yeah,” I said. “I’m looking for a polyurethane-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 attempting 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!” All three ladies gasp in unison, their hands shooting to cover their mouths as thought I had suddenly contracted the Avian Flu. The third lady pretends not to be shocked (because she isn’t really listening) but she clearly catches about a quarter inch of air.
“Its over there,” the first lady says, pointing with the hand not covering her mouth.
Weird. The rest of the clientele were buying floral-print fabrics which would make the cover of Country Home Magazine puke, and they’re looking at me like I just asked to purchase several yards of Human Flesh.
Oh well, I’ll post some pix when my costume is finished…
Blog on,
-Z
