My Pants. My Pants. My Pants are on Fire.

Ahhh, this made me laugh so much, that all the photos I attempted to take of these pants turned out like CRAP. 

 

 So, they are this faux crushed velvet things. Brown. BROWN. With white stitching. I wish I had gotten a pic of the pockets on the arse. They made them even worse. Just, tackalicious.  I mean, maybe a bit sexy in their softness. Nice to rub up next to if your DRY, but the minute ANYONE gets wet, you just know they are going to SQUEAK. But heaven forbid things start getting hot and heavy, and the dry rub creates any HEAT, because....

...there's THIS.

 This means YOU, 43!

Seriously. I laughed so hard. 

I just pictured the spontaneous combustion, and how that would put a real damper on any sexy faux crushed velvet action. And then Erotic City by Prince was in my head and... well, that was it. No clear pictures. 

Grace.

P.S. The Universe has an AMAZING sense of timing and humour, too. 

Squeeching.

Sooo. Sometimes the thrift store gets perfumes. Or purfumey things. And, never knowing what I will react to, it's a good idea for them to NOT be sprayed around me. We USED to keep them behind the counter. But then you'd get the woman who wants to sniff every single one, while there's a line up.

So, Boss Lady made a sign. And then I made another:

I hoped that the RED warning, with the drawn yellow warning liney signs would make people understand. ASTHMATIC on staff. PLEASE DO NOT SPRAY PERFUMES!!

But there's always that ONE. She'll be old, stubborn, and give me the whole "how do you expect me to smell it to see if I like it?" My response is "smell the cap."

We sell the fuckers for no more than $1 for the cheapie ones, and $5ish for brand named ones that come in.

But she'll spray it anyway when she thinks I'm not looking. As if I'm not going to NOTICE. And the stink invades the whole store, and I start choking. Sometimes I AM a little more dramatic than I need to be - What, with the doubling over and red faced gasping coughs while I hang onto the counter for dear life, and the loud squeeching use of the inhalers. (Squeeching. I just made that up. It's mine. It's like squealing, but backwards, because you are trying to breath IN.)

It freaks peoples shit out. But I totally do it. Because even though mostly I am SO. FUCKING. CUSTOMER. SERVICE. AWESOME.... Sometimes there's just no other way to SAY a thing to stubborn ladies who want to smell ALL THE FUCKING PERFUMES at once.

And yet. There's a boy I've been spending time with who wears a very distinct cologne, and I seem to be JUST FINE with getting my nose all up in that without wheezing even a little.


Grace.

Adam and Eve. He's Got Balls.

Dirty Old Man (aka DOM) and the Ex Man (Boss Lady's Ex, who for some reason EVERYONE assumes is MY husband. Weird. *shivers*) were in the back room today, while Ex Man was going through STUFF. I hear manly yet goofy laughter come from the back room, and then out on the floor "We found something for you!!!"

What a big dowel you have. Hubba Hubba.

A bottle opener, and a can opener. They fit together sooo nicely. and LOOK at the balls on Adam. I think that's my favourite bit. I don't even drink beer or cola, so never have occasion to NEED an Adam. I DO however drink a bit of apple or pineapple juice from a can, so an Eve would come in PRETTY HANDY.

Eve would come
in pretty handy.

There's a bit of beautiful dirty poetry in there. 

Anyway. It was a longish day today. Still the same amount of hours, it's just for the SECOND time this year, I'm slightly under the weather.

It's my own fault, I know. My adrenals have been racing with all the adventure.  Did an improv night, I was on stage being silly! Met my Steve Martin! Did I tell you about my Steve Martin dream back on Dec 30? Probably  not. Anyway. I met him. Went dancing with the Boss Lady and some other girls, got hit on by drunk ladies of a certain age. But I stayed up too late. (And I only drank water!)

The next morning, connected with a man who used to be a boy when I was a girl, and THAT was thrilling! We spent 5 hours chatting in a coffee shop, and could have gone longer except the shop had to CLOSE. They totally kicked us out. Heh. 

I'm working on getting the use of my sinuses back, and my voice is pretty much just a hissy squeak.

Good times.

Maybe I need a little Adam to loosen things up. Or maybe some Eve. But probably Adam. Yes. Adam.

Grace.