So the other day I spent an afternoon with my mom. We browsed a few places and then headed to this crazy consignment/thrift store.
I imagine this place would fit really well in a drug-induced hallucination. Or in 1973. Whichever.
It's filled to the brim with stuff — old clothes, signs, jewelry, bumper stickers, hats...you could spend DAYS in there and not find everything. Kind of like the Louvre. But a Louvre that smells like mothballs.
Anyway: the point of this post. I'll get there now. Promise.
So I was rooting through this bowl of little tiny rings. I love rings. Like a lot. And I found one that looked pretty cool — it had a light purple background with some sort of Asian character on it:
"Huh," I said aloud, "I wonder what that character means? Maybe like peace? Or love? Something happy, I'm sure." And I thought very seriously about buying it — not to wear, but to put out in my room on my dresser next to the Buddhas and the mini Japanese Zen Garden.
Then I noticed the lady behind the counter looking at me funny. Like I had three heads, or something. And then it clicked.
I flipped the ring upside down, and...
It wasn't a cool Asian character. It was the freaking Playboy Bunny.
I felt SO COOL, let me just tell you. And smart. And not embarrassed AT ALL.
So I put the ring back. And left the store and quit college and joined the circus. But not before trying on the coolest sunglasses ever.