As I stood shivering, hands tucked snugly in the pockets of my black Banana Republic Peacoat ($2.50 @ a yard sale), I counted the seconds until I’d see the big yellow bus round the corner. Four times a day I stand on the corner of a busy intersection and wait. Today I waited alone.
A car careened down the main avenue, honked, and a young man popped out of the window whistling at me. The hearty chuckle that escaped my throat warmed me from head to toe. If he’d been a minute later, his young ego would have been forever crushed as my eight year-old jumped from the bus and gave me a big hug. I do not believe whistling at a soccer mom makes young men popular these days.
Perhaps it was the new bag deserving the whistle? No, couldn’t have been, I didn’t bring it out. Probably a dare. Remember that truth or dare game? Do kids still play that game?
Seriously, isn’t this a great bag? Come on, all you Texas gals must like a good cow pattern, right? I bought it from a street vendor. There’s no better place to shop than in the street. The haggle is the thrill. I thrive when conditions demand bartering. Could be why I enjoy yard sales so much. I would do very well in countries with open air markets.
A few years ago, I actually considered getting a hot dog cart and selling wieners all summer. Thing is, I would’ve loved that job. FringeMan feared I would have donned a bikini and become the very popular bikini wienie girl…not a good reputation in a small town where he is the minister.