Wednesday, February 23, 2011

Something About Valentine's Day

The other day, while reading columns written by C. Jane Kendrick for my own personal enjoyment, I happened upon this beauty.

I am not really sure why I am telling this story. Maybe it's a cry for help or written proof that I'm going crazy -- or not going crazy.
I don't know.
What I do know is this: I was at a store -- the type where one would shop for family friendly valentine gifts like balloons, candy and heart-felt kitsch. I had ordered a specialized gift and knew I would need help in picking it up. When I walked into the store, I saw two young teenage girls working the cash registers and a boy of similar age in the back of the store behind an order counter.
And the place was packed with patrons all hopped up on helium-filled, heart-shaped latex.
Because the girls were really busy punching and running credit cards, I thought about perhaps asking the boy in the back for assistance. But from my point of view, he looked sort of sullen and depressed. I couldn't exactly see his face, but I decided against approaching him when I noticed he was just sitting there peering at me from behind the counter. So I just kept waiting in line, impatient and increasingly annoyed.
After standing a few more minutes in line with the dude staring and me not getting any closer to the registers, I thought, alright, I'll go ask him for assistance -- which is exactly when an angelic-looking woman in a particularly delightful periwinkle sweater asked me if I needed anything.
Heaven exists!
With my most emphatically grateful voice, I said, "Oh yes. I have an order under the name Kendrick..."
But before I could even finish, she blurted out, "Oh right! Yes! Follow me please!" and she headed toward the back of the store.
Toward -- you know -- him. He didn't move as we approached. He just sat there with piercing eyes intent on my soul. I wondered how an employee could get away with just standing there when the store was filled with people needing help. Surprised he's not fired by now. For a moment, I thought about telling my periwinkle bright-eyed angel how this guy was making me feel; uneasy and a little creeped out.
And then, just as she disappeared behind the order counter with me close behind, I came face-to-face with the guy.
"He" was a stand-up, life-size cutout.
Of Edward Cullen.
I'll change my Friday appointment from a therapist to optometrist.

C. Jane Kendrick also blogs here, just in case you were wondering.

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