BACK TO REALITY... Same ole, same ole (Part 165g)

BACK TO REALITY… Same ole, same ole (Part 165g)

The three applications that I chose to present to J J were just about as different as could be imagined. One, however, was there as a ‘test’. Of the three she had the most experience but was the least attractive. One of the other two was very attractive and, as far as memory takes me, had the least experience. The last one hadn’t worked in a number of years but had the most mature outlook. When I turned them back to Trish I told her which one I expected J J to choose. All she could do was smile. After Joanie delivered them to him I was surprised it took him so long to get to me. “ASAP’ was his instruction as far as getting them in for him to interview.

My weekend was ‘stacked’ with things to do… the price of being away for a week. One good thing was that I’d cut the grass so that gave me more time for all the rest. I’d talked with the minister about my concerns with the Thrift Shoppe and he asked if I could be there for the opening. I went right to the church after my weekly visit to the landfill and was expecting to see people waiting for the doors to open. There might have been three or four who were by the door to the undercroft (basement). There was a small sign tacked to the door that gave the hours… 9am to 1pm… and that was all. The name of the shop was no where to be seen and there was nothing by the sidewalk or the parking lot to bring any attention to the endeavor. I did notice some more boxes and bags had been stacked in where the trash barrels were located and just shook my head. I opened the door and went down the five steps to the shoppe. I stood at the bottom and saw a number of women (the ladies auxiliary) standing around and tables stacked high with clothing. There were no signs identifying what was on each table. I remember standing there shaking my head. I didn’t see the minister walk up but I heard him when he asked “What do you think?”

I know I didn’t answer right away and I honestly do remember thinking of the words I’d heard Morris, the bank’s consultant, tell me candidly about his original thoughts on the bank’s new branch… ‘close it down and start over…’. It was almost 9am and there was not much that could be done to make it any better so I gave him my best mealy mouthed answer… “We’ll just have to wait and see.” It was a good thing there were so few people waiting. When they walked in I found myself having to move/lift clothes up so they could get to the item(s) that wanted to see. It only took a few minutes before over half the piles were no longer neat and quite a few items were on the floor. By 9:30am there were more people but the room was in chaos. Many of the items had not been priced and some that were were grossly overpriced. By 10:30am the situation was out of control and after talking with me the minister he closed it down. The lady who was in charge complained to him about it and he pretty much ignored her. Then, she just stormed out. I, for one was relieved. As I’d posted before, I thought the Thrift Shoppe idea was getting out of hand and this proved it.

My original intention was to just stop to observe for a short time and then leave. I’d been there for almost two hours by then and the minister called me up to his office to discuss the situation. I won’t bore you with all the machinations and will ‘cut to the quick’. I suggested that a special Vestry meeting be called and that the head of the ladies Auxiliary be there. He wanted to know what to do with the mess in the undercroft and I told him to just leave it. He disagreed but after listening to my reasons, gave in. Before leaving I told him the things that I’d observed that, if the shop was to continue, needed to be addressed. I think it surprised him was that the whole list came right off the top of my head. I’d never wanted to be a part of it and now it looked like I was right in the middle of it.

On Friday night I’d received a call from my new sailing friend, Marty, asking if I could help him with a boat he’d just obtained. Marty was true sailing “nut” and even though the Summer sailing season had ended he was preparing for Winter racing. It was given the name “frostbiting” because, back in those days, wet suits (or dry suits) had not yet been developed and if a boat capsized and you got wet you were subject to being frostbitten. It was usually done in small  dingy boats with the most predominant class being called the Penguin. The Penguin was only 11 feet long and had but one sail. They could fit in the back of a pick up truck and Marty had stumbled across a boat that had been abandoned. The man who owned the property where it was located told him to just come and take it away. Marty had just rebuilt his Comet class sailboat and from what he told me, this was going to be a similar project. He needed me to help get the boat out of the back of the truck and expected to be back to his house around 11;30am. It was only took a few minutes from the church to his house so headed there, even if it meant waiting for him.

Pulling in his driveway there was no way not to see what was hanging on the wash line over in his neighbor’s yard. Nothing special but, since I’d seen the woman, it was exciting to see what she wore for panties. I sat there staring at them for a minute or two before getting out to see if Marty’s wife was home. She wasn’t and there was a note in the door that she’d gone shopping. I went back to stare at the panties and got the idea to make a flying trip home to get the Polaroid camera. The last thing I’d done the night before was to go to the camera store next to the bank to buy a pack of film. On my way back to my house I had to come up with a reason to be there and then to leave  right away for Elle. She was out in the garden so I was able to grab the camera bag and get back to my car without being asked. With her being busy it gave me more time to come up with a believable story when I returned. Now, all I could do was hope that Marty was running late.

Holding my breath as I turned into Marty’s drive I was elated to see he hadn’t made it home. I remember fumbling trying to load the film into the camera. One thing I remember about using that camera was that I’d have to make a few adjustments, depending on the picture, and would sometimes screw up the first one. I was sitting behind the steering wheel when I snapped the picture and as soon as I did I saw a pick up truck pulling in behind me. That meant no time to develop it. Marty apologized for being late and, in truth, I was happy that he was. It only took a few minutes to unload the boat and for him to show me what he had to do to make it raceable. He asked if I’d crew for him during the Winter but I told him I was really warm weather racer. After leaving his house I pulled to the side of the road to see what I’d got for a picture. This is it...

        

To be continued...