I stopped at a hardware store on Township after work. Surprisingly, it’s named “The Hardware Store,” which confused me. I definitely wanted some watercolor art prints. I was shocked and pleased that they carried oversized outlet plates AND a huge variety of screws. I am now fully screwed, I’m pleased to report.

As the clerk checked me out, he inquired about my brooch. Being where he was, he of course didn’t refer to it as a “brooch.” No self-respecting retail clerk selling manly items would ever utter the word – even under threat of a whipping.

I laughed and asked if he wanted a rundown of possible answers.

“Ha! Of course,” he said and laughed.

“It’s a pilot’s license.”

“Really,” he seriously asked.

“Yes, it allows me to indiscriminately fly the bird anytime I wish to.” And I held up both birds using both hands to demonstrate.

Not expecting that, he laughed hard.

I listed a barrage of other explanations, some funny, some bizarre.

I’ll go back. Not just for the great supply of items, but also to test their credulity and sense of humor.

Love, X
.