So the title I picked off the menu board at writers group this month was Mister. Enjoy.
Mister
Predictable? Try a hardware store on a Tuesday afternoon.
How many times can you help an old biddy pick out beige paint for her living room? Or explain to a wannabe do it yourselfer the difference between a galvanized nail and a coated one? Mostly you try to let them figure it out on their own.
They all fit into one of a few categories: Redecorating, gardening, home repair, remodeling, and – dating service??
“I need a mister.” The rather frazzled young lady startled me in the middle of sorting paint samples for the umpteenth time.
“Excuse me?” I looked around for hidden cameras. Was she serious? I've heard of meeting people in grocery stores, but this was different.
“I was told this would be a good place to find a mister.” She brushed dirty blond hair back from her face. No, I really mean dirty blond hair.
“Um, well, it is a hardware store. And it’s pretty busy today. I guess this is about as good a place as any to find one.” She musta been reading one of those chick magazines.
"So where do I look?" She seemed really quite anxious.
“Well, they tend to be in almost every department. I think maybe the best thing would be if you were to browse through the store and look for one you like.”
“Oh...but...surely there's a good place to start?” Her big brown eyes looked at me helplessly.
“You could start in the plumbing section." I took her arm and pointed her in the right direction. "There's usually a few of them there.”
“Wonderful! I’ll look there first.” She bounced off, leaving grass clippings in her wake. I shook my head in amazement. Well, Grandma used to say, “There’s more than one way to feather a rooster.”
I got all the paint samples in order, and was just starting to straighten the shovels and rakes when she came breezing around the corner. "I couldn't find any, but I did get these cool knobs for my bathroom faucet. So where should I look next?"
I found this quite amusing by now. Plus she was kinda cute, so I wanted to help her. You know how guys are. "Well, why don't you check over in the hand tools. Maybe you'll have better luck there."
"Oh thank you!" She patted my shoulder and zipped away.
Maybe I should just help her. No, that would be awkward. Besides, I didn't really know what kind she was looking for. And then her bright smile appeared around the corner again. "Any luck?" I was starting to care.
"Nope. Just hammers and wrenches and stuff. Maybe this isn't the right place." Her smile was fading.
"Oh don't give up too easy. Do you know what kind you're looking for?" I turned my full attention to her.
"Just one that works, I guess. Doesn't have to be anything fancy or special."
"Okay, come with me. Let's check out the lawn and garden section."
"Oh you're going to help me. Cool!" Her smile was bigger than ever.
I led her through the white plastic arbor that was the entrance to our lawn and garden area. We walked past the bird baths and garden globes and just as we were by the water hoses and sprinklers she stopped and grabbed my arm. "Here they are. You found them for me. Thank you, thank you!"
"I did? Oh...you wanted a…misting sprinkler for your...flower beds?" I tried to stay cool.
"Yes, a mister. So how does this thing work?" She scrunched her forehead cutely as she studied the pictures on the box.
"Well it can be a bit tricky to get it positioned just right. Look at these instructions." We huddled over the little box trying to decipher the fine print.
"Oh dear, I don't know." She turned those big brown eyes on me again. And I was lost.
"I could come over and help you set this up after work if you want."
She squealed – yes, squealed in delight. "That would be so awesome." She gave me a quick grass-clipping dirty-hair hug. "Give me your phone and I’ll put in my number.”
I waited awkwardly as she punched in the number, and then looked up. “Oh, my name is Missy, by the way. And you are…?”
“Well, um...my real name is Sylvester, but my friends just call me…Mister.”
“Okay then, Mister, thanks for helping me find a…” She stopped and stared open mouthed. Her eyes got even bigger, and her smile split into gales of laughter. Her sound of her glee tumbled through the garden section till every customer there was smiling too.
She was still giggling as she skipped out the door. She got her mister. And her Mister.
Predictable? Try a hardware store on a Tuesday afternoon.
How many times can you help an old biddy pick out beige paint for her living room? Or explain to a wannabe do it yourselfer the difference between a galvanized nail and a coated one? Mostly you try to let them figure it out on their own.
They all fit into one of a few categories: Redecorating, gardening, home repair, remodeling, and – dating service??
“I need a mister.” The rather frazzled young lady startled me in the middle of sorting paint samples for the umpteenth time.
“Excuse me?” I looked around for hidden cameras. Was she serious? I've heard of meeting people in grocery stores, but this was different.
“I was told this would be a good place to find a mister.” She brushed dirty blond hair back from her face. No, I really mean dirty blond hair.
“Um, well, it is a hardware store. And it’s pretty busy today. I guess this is about as good a place as any to find one.” She musta been reading one of those chick magazines.
"So where do I look?" She seemed really quite anxious.
“Well, they tend to be in almost every department. I think maybe the best thing would be if you were to browse through the store and look for one you like.”
“Oh...but...surely there's a good place to start?” Her big brown eyes looked at me helplessly.
“You could start in the plumbing section." I took her arm and pointed her in the right direction. "There's usually a few of them there.”
“Wonderful! I’ll look there first.” She bounced off, leaving grass clippings in her wake. I shook my head in amazement. Well, Grandma used to say, “There’s more than one way to feather a rooster.”
I got all the paint samples in order, and was just starting to straighten the shovels and rakes when she came breezing around the corner. "I couldn't find any, but I did get these cool knobs for my bathroom faucet. So where should I look next?"
I found this quite amusing by now. Plus she was kinda cute, so I wanted to help her. You know how guys are. "Well, why don't you check over in the hand tools. Maybe you'll have better luck there."
"Oh thank you!" She patted my shoulder and zipped away.
Maybe I should just help her. No, that would be awkward. Besides, I didn't really know what kind she was looking for. And then her bright smile appeared around the corner again. "Any luck?" I was starting to care.
"Nope. Just hammers and wrenches and stuff. Maybe this isn't the right place." Her smile was fading.
"Oh don't give up too easy. Do you know what kind you're looking for?" I turned my full attention to her.
"Just one that works, I guess. Doesn't have to be anything fancy or special."
"Okay, come with me. Let's check out the lawn and garden section."
"Oh you're going to help me. Cool!" Her smile was bigger than ever.
I led her through the white plastic arbor that was the entrance to our lawn and garden area. We walked past the bird baths and garden globes and just as we were by the water hoses and sprinklers she stopped and grabbed my arm. "Here they are. You found them for me. Thank you, thank you!"
"I did? Oh...you wanted a…misting sprinkler for your...flower beds?" I tried to stay cool.
"Yes, a mister. So how does this thing work?" She scrunched her forehead cutely as she studied the pictures on the box.
"Well it can be a bit tricky to get it positioned just right. Look at these instructions." We huddled over the little box trying to decipher the fine print.
"Oh dear, I don't know." She turned those big brown eyes on me again. And I was lost.
"I could come over and help you set this up after work if you want."
She squealed – yes, squealed in delight. "That would be so awesome." She gave me a quick grass-clipping dirty-hair hug. "Give me your phone and I’ll put in my number.”
I waited awkwardly as she punched in the number, and then looked up. “Oh, my name is Missy, by the way. And you are…?”
“Well, um...my real name is Sylvester, but my friends just call me…Mister.”
“Okay then, Mister, thanks for helping me find a…” She stopped and stared open mouthed. Her eyes got even bigger, and her smile split into gales of laughter. Her sound of her glee tumbled through the garden section till every customer there was smiling too.
She was still giggling as she skipped out the door. She got her mister. And her Mister.
.
3 comments:
Very cute story! Oh...wait.....was it true?
That's a great story. And a little revealing about you, Mark. Dirty hair—who would have guessed.
Hi, again! (I thought I left you a comment on this one already...hmmm. Must be going mental a bit early.)
I've given you an award, by the way. Come and pick it up!
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