A post in which there is more shopping to do

I got in contact with Eve and Lisa today, and through a long series of texts, established when and where lunch would be on Sunday.  I'm going to have to go late to the pool party, but I was there on time last year and no one else was except for the gaybors, so no worries there.  I emailed the boys and decided to make Korean pickles, so I won't have anything fussy that I have to worry about not turning out right or being hard to transport - plus I can take some for Lisa and the kids since they love those.

It was mostly uneventful at work.  Alan still hasn't gotten my write-offs back, but it hasn't gotten to the point that I feel the need to go in his office and pitch a fit yet. 

When I got off work, I wanted to go home, but I had one more little shopping trip to make.  This one wasn't for me though, and wasn't selfish.  I had to go get Eve's birthday present.  Fortunately she had told me exactly what she wanted, and exactly where to get it.

So I entered Swoozie's.  Immediately when I walked through the door I felt out of place.  The store was light, airy with splashes of color, appealingly 'jumbled', and completely populated by biological females.  It is rare that my masculinity makes me feel conspicuous and out of place, but I did in this store (although I have no doubt that I had more estrogen in my body than some of the clientele).  At first I thought I had to be in the wrong place, because the stuff looked like it was for children.  After looking at some of the items more closely, though, I realized that the merchandise was created to appeal to women with the female equivalent of Peter Pan Syndrome.  Brightly colored plastic cups, ceramic plates, and 'decorative' boards painted with Bible verses and cliche platitudes surrounded me.  It was one of the latter that I had been sent to purchase.  I made my way around the store, reading the various plaques and vaguely wishing I had taken a Dramamine before I entered.

There were many of the plaques, tucked in whimsically around the other merchandise, but I couldn't find the one I was looking for.  After making a desultory circuit of the store, I approached the counter to ask for help, but all the attendants seemed to be busy.  Eventually I located a plate with the saying I had been told about.  I finally just picked up the plate, approached the counter, and asked the saleswoman "Do you have this in a plaque?"  They did.  In three sizes.  But they had been so whimsically tucked in amongst the flotsam that I had missed them.  I picked out the middle size, had it wrapped while I picked out a card, and emerged triumphantly about twenty minutes later with a $40 board that had been painted with a quaint definition of the South.  I felt like a complete tool, but that was what she had asked for.

After that I was ready to go home.  I ate dibs and dabs for supper, resisted the urge to put a load of laundry in, and fell in to the internet vortex.  I talked to a couple of guys, but I was mainly chasing the boys to watch them run.  I had a pass made at me by a seemingly nice enough guy who unfortunately had a completely ridiculous toupee (obvious even in his SFIP {suspiciously flattering internet photo}).  I did talk to one guy who seemed to be living in my world, but turned out to be living in Spartanburg with no car.  Sigh.  But he asked me out to dinner for tomorrow night (followed up by a request for my Chinese astrological sign of all things) and I said I would go.  I had already cancelled one date this week for Thursday with a guy I had 0 interest in, but it seems I am destined to go on a date tomorrow night - or not.  Internet guys have the memory of fruit-gnats when it comes to plans made in advance.  We'll see if he calls me tomorrow.