“Charlie, what’s up with the beach towel in the bathroom?”
“Geesh, the ones we’re using are the worse for wear, kind of thin and scratchy, so I thought I’d give that one a go instead.”
“You’re right, Honey, we do have an Econo Lodge situation. I’ve been too busy to deal with it. But things have quieted down. I’ll get right on it. You know how much I love a shopping assignment.”
“That I do, dear. Make sure they’re dark.”
“Dark?”
“You know, so they won’t show the dirt.”
So, off I went to the big city, Bangor, solo. It’s not really the kind of shopping excursion you bring a friend on. Ended up getting some colonial blue towels at Macy’s. But, of course, you can stop there. Went to Home Goods and got matching rugs, and then I thought, Oh, those are all kind of dark, I’ll brighten ‘em up with some new bathroom accessories: trash can, drinking glass and toothbrush holder in deep coral and tied the whole thing together with a cute shower curtain. Take that, Martha Stewart!
All that shopping tuckered me out and it’s all catching up with me on the drive
home, so I stop at a Circle K (well, we call ‘em “the OK” in this neck of the woods), somewhere on the outskirts of Bangor, to get some coffee and some candy.
There’s a guy behind the counter working the register, one of them fellas you know isn’t as old as he looks: scraggly hair, tooth missing, reeking of cigarettes. Behind him, also on duty (why else would she be wearing that smock) is a woman, middle-aged, uncomfortably heavy, long grey hair hanging down, sitting on a stool, staring into space. “Pam,” it says on her name tag.
As the guy’s checking me out, another fella who’d been making a delivery comes up to the counter. “Hey, Pam,
how you doing?”
And Pam goes, “Livin’ the dream, Frank,” no expression in her voice, her face, her eyes. “I’m livin’ the dream.”
Well, wasn’t that a Stephen King moment? I hightailed it outta there before the world outside that particular OK seized to exist.
On the way home, I got to thinking about Pam. I’m probably never going to see her again, or the scraggly haired guy, or Frank for that matter. Because you can bet, I’m not going back to that particular OK. But every time I drive past that place I’ll be thinking of Pam, frozen in time, livin’ the dream.
Do you ponder things like that? I’ll see a guy passing me on the highway and what’s he doing? Picking his nose (or “mining for boogers,” as our third grade teacher, Mrs. Wilson, used to say). I’m thinking, this is the only time our paths are ever going to cross, and he’s picking his nose!
Anyhoo, when I got home and Charlie saw all the bags, he smiles and goes, “I can see you can a good day! How much did you save?”
This is a little game we play. I tell him how much I saved, not how much I spent. “Oh, over a hundred and fifty dollars, Charlie.”
I showed him what I bought and he pretended to look interested. Then came the fun of stripping out the old and putting in the new. And folks, our bathroom looks pretty darn spiffy if I do say so myself. Makes me smile every time I see it.
That’s it for now. Catch you on the flip side!
Hear Ida Tell It: Livin’ the Dream