Today was an interesting mix of events: Toddler birthday party / trying to get Stink to sleep but failing miserably / running to post offices with Ebay only to find them closed / running to UPS with Ebay only to find them closed / dealing with a bad case of frozen vocal chords and finally, blessedly, date night. (Thanks Cecelia and Slim for a great time!)
One errand not mentioned above was my Saturday run to the drycleaners for Rex. It's always very predictable and uneventful.
Stink finally decided to stop complaining about the car seat, the cold, the heat, being with Pipsqueak, being without her, wanting a juice, wanting a milk, wanting to pee, not wanting to pee... and he collapsed. The upshot?There was no begging for cleaner candy (Braachs striped hard drops inside a plastic bowl near the cash register.) Rex tagged along, so he stayed in the car (This meant him being serenaded by Pipsqueak to 25 verses of E I E I OOOOOO)
For the first time in the history of my motherhood, I was privy to a solo cleaners run. Lucky for me, I got to witness a very amusing altercation between the very young cashier, Shayna, and a 50 something drunk patron. Scruffy, wobbling and stinking like kerosene, Mister Booze would methodically place his shirts in one pile, his pants in another, his shorts in another. I stifled the urge to both laugh as well as tell him he could get better shirts at some thrift stores for half the cost of the drycleaning. Then empathy would kick in, as well as the realization that he was so smashed, he wouldn't remember to pick them up anyway.
Between coughs and beard rubs, he'd mention to the ever patient Shayna, "This one has holes in it... kind of like my life.... Do you go to school?" Shayna would start to reply and he'd add "Hope so. Don't be stupid like me and not finish..." Then he'd point out some burn marks on a particularly dirty Walmart number and add, "I like to smoke when I sleep. When people ask about the holes, I tell them I'm a welder." He went on to give his last name... "Priestly... it's the only thing I like about myself." Then he quickly inserted "That old Asian lady? Nina? She still work here?" When Shayna nodded, he said "I like her. She calls me Chatsworth Steve."
Chatsworth Steve, wherever you are, take care.
And I take back what I said about saving money on your clothes by not drycleaning. If you're going to have to live with the shirt on your back, it might as well be a nice one.