The Lamp From Estacada
Stuff like this always makes me nervous. While we’re sitting on the step of our delapidated front porch, and two identical big white furry dogs come over to say hello. They move in unison, bark in unison, and then go over to Nana’s tie-out and check her out in unison. I didn’t say anything about the creep factor of the encounter until my daughter’s quiet comment “It’s almost like they are aliens, isn’t it?”
She was right. But I had a different reason for the creep factor. A few years ago I had a bad dream about a big white violent dog that suddenly showed up at our front windows. When I told this dream to the local psychic, she said the dream was a warning that someone was gonna hurt me. She was right too.
The dogs left, in unison. Marina mumbled something about Twin Peaks, which was interesting being as I just got done describing this as a teeny-tiny little Twin Peaks town in my last weblog entry.
And now this. A teeny-tiny little woman named Ginger came all the way from Estacada to see if we would like to sell her big weird lamps in our teeny-tiny little shop. See picture above. Doesn’t it remind you of the Leg Lamp from “A Christmas Story”? It’s so horrible that it’s fantastic.
I get to work this morning and the Klingon of an Office Manager is beaming with pride: last night, her son and his girlfriend got into a barfight that wound up in the parking lot of a local restaurant, the patrons of which witnessed not only the fisticuffs but the girlfriend’s tube top being pulled off in the process. Yes, tube tops are still very much in vogue up here. Several cop cars were called to the scene but her kids took off before they could be busted for the drugs they were carrying. Kids? Wait a minute, they are at least 30.
My Office Manager is one tube of blue eyeshadow away from being Mimi in the Drew Carey show. I will find a picture, and you will see I am not exaggerating.
It’s all very Hatfield/McCoy. This feud started several years ago when said Office Manager drank too much tequila tried to strangle some woman named ‘Cyndee’…who happened to be Jeff’s wife, who I believe threw the first punch last night, at the Office Manager’s son’s girlfriend.
Spirits were high here at work today, I heard the story repeated 9 times to different people ( yes I counted). This was enough of a drama fix to last all day and hopefully well into tomorrow afternoon. Also, she just scored some Lorazipan, which we are waiting for an excuse to partake of.
This is why I never burn my bridges. A girl needs all sorts of friends.