From Your Fingertips To My...Er, Fingertips

Commenter "angryclown" says:

By the way, I'm on pins and needles waiting to read about your trip to the dry cleaner. If you're lucky, you can catch somebody picking up a jacket made of cashmere or some other politically significant fabric.

In the interest of fully serving my readers, Angryclown's wish is my command.

The other day I went to the dry cleaners. A fiftysomething couple wearing matching free-range alpaca riot jackets with "WHAT WOULD WELLSTONE DO" emblazoned on the back were upbraiding the clerk - a 19 year old single mother who was trying to work her way through school to become a nurse.

"You FOOL", the woman bellowed, as her husband cowered in the corner covering his ears, "you bought baby food at Wal-Mart! You are an unwitting tool of the patriarchal pro-war Halliburtonesque running-dog clacque! I'm reporting you to my good friend Jay Benanav! You will never do lunch in this town again!"

I asked if I might slip through and pick up my suit. The woman, veins bulging from her organic face, spun on the heels of her earth shoes. "YOU! A...White male! Give me reparations right now, or I'll have Chris Coleman come down here personally and impound your car!"

The two of them left the building and drove off in their waiting Volvo.

"Wow", I said, turning to the girl behind the counter. "What brought that on?"

"I just said that we couldn't dry-clean a muumuu that was made of hemp, and that there was no such thing as organic, free-range cleaning fluid..."

Other requested scenarios will follow as time permits.

Posted by Mitch at February 22, 2006 12:46 PM | TrackBack