Let me begin this post by saying that I am a happily married woman and have been so for the past nine years. AP knows me like no other and even when, on those RARE occasions we argue, I am extremely grateful to have him as a partner.
Today was the big town market and I rented a stall for my Dragonlane Store. Diana, such a dear friend, came with me to help out and thank God she did because the market traffic was s-l-o-w and time was a-dragging. Natty cardigan clad ladies clumped through the rooms dragging their shopping bags and antique dealers tried to sniff out a bargain or two…but that was about the extent of the customer base. Suddenly from across the room a young man in full police uniform entered through the double doors. He was the neighborhood Bobby! And I really don’t know what it is about men in uniform but…
So I nudged Diana and I pointed her in the direction of our uniformed eye candy. She muttered, “oh isn’t he GORgeous?”
And so, Diana being a natural extrovert and me being an American with few boundaries, motioned the Bobby over to us and we put our elbows on the table and rested our faces in our hands and giggled and asked him questions like…what brings a bobby to the market? We learned that he likes flea markets and that his wife is sometimes a vendor. We chatted a bit more– smiled a lot — and I think Diana even told him that he was lovely. (But Diana has that kind of warmth with everyone).
The other middle aged ladies in the room looked at us with scorn and– dare I say -envy. The vendor next door whispered, “I cannot BElieve you two!” But then she gave us a wink and a smile.
We watched him walk back through the doors from whence he came and Diana whispered…”did you see how small his bottom was?”
Me? No. Never noticed a thing.