Tabatha Deans

Bringing Integrity to the Written Word

With PTM back in town, hilarity and chaos has become the norm. After lounging the morning away with coffee and conversation, we ventured out for cheap Chinese food and a wander up Colfax. We browsed vintage posters at the poster shop, which boasts a sign in the window stating “If you were not raptured and convince us you should have been, we’ll give you 20 percent off your purchase.” Along with posters, the shop has a fine collection of Playboy Magazine, and as I commented to the young man behind the counter about it, he asked if I’d seen the latest edition with Lindsey Lohan in it.
“No,” I replied. “But I heard it wasn’t all that great.
He immediately reached underneath the counter and produced a copy of the latest edition, which he opened and spread out on the counter for us to see. I had to admit, it was a lousy spread. No Lohan, all Marilyn Monroe. We decided that Hugh Hefner may be in trouble.
The Chinese food was greasy, as usual, and when we left we hit the Bargain Warehouse, in search of hidden treasure. Despite the freezing temperatures outside, when we walked into the store it was even colder inside. Two women sat on a used couch, bundled up in sweaters and hats. They were manning the store for the day. Bargain Warehouse is a shop that specializes in all things discarded by others. The ladies chatted with us as we wandered, and I stopped to read a plaque of the ten commandments. The older of the two ladies, who was actually well-put-together and didn’t look at all crazy, read the plaque with me.
“There’s one missing. I’m sure there’s one about respecting your neighbor.” She said.
“I think it’s something about not coveting thy neighbor’s wife,” I said.
“No. I’m sure it’s respect your neighbor.” After a token discussion on my part about the ten commandments, she turned to the other lady and asked her.
“Oh, no, I don’t know anything about the ten commandments,” she replied.
My discussion partner reached out and touched my arm and declared,
“I have this big book at home. It’s a really big bible. It talks all about the ten commandments.”
“Oh, well, I guess I’ll have to read that book,” I said to her, which seemed to make her happy.
PTM found some bargain laundry soap and assorted goodies he needed to complete his month-long greyhound trip, and as we placed them on the counter for the younger girl to ring up, the older one asked if we’d eaten at a place called “Pizza Fusion.” I actually wrote a story about if a few months ago for a local magazine, and told her all I knew about it. That sparked a discussion about a local restaurant that served Mexican food.
“That’s the place with a big burrito, and if you can eat the whole thing you get to eat free for life.” They told us.
Wow, that had to be one heckuva burrito. After a few more minutes of discussing the burrito, PTM decided he needed an approximation of exactly how big this burrito was.
“How big is the burrito?” he asked.
The younger seemed to search her mind for an accurate comparison, and from the look in her eyes she didn’t have a lot to work with. She stammered a few times, then apparently found the answer she was looking for. She looked right at PTM, and very enthusiastically, and emphasizing the size with her hands in front of her, declared,
“That burrito is as big as a newborn baby!”

January 12, 2012 - Posted by | Uncategorized

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