My little plan today was to take 6 bags of clothes over to the Salvation Army since the one near us was gentrified out about a year or so ago; Betty volunteered to come with me, & then said coquettishly, “I thought maybe we could stop at the Old Navy.”
We never made it to Old Navy. We went to Victoria’s Secret, where I was promptly given the dyke sign to carry around when a salesperson came up to me to ask if I needed any help, and I just pointed to Betty and said, “I’m just waiting for her.” Afterwards, Daffy’s for a quick minute, since the place gives us both headaches. I walked quickly by the Cold Stone Creamery, since it’s a weakness of mine and I’m trying to lose weight, and then Target, since I have a firm belief that the only good summer clothes are cheap – nearly disposable. At least for bras and t-shirts I like, since I tend to sweat through them over a season. (TMI, maybe, but hey, you try finding cotton bras to support D cups in 90 degree heat & 90% humidity without sweating through them, & get back to me.)
We bought nearly nothing but we were starving by the time I’d try to pick out Hanes hipsters in the right size – $8 for 6! – and decided to walk to the Wendy’s in Fulton Mall. It was a hike, but we had lunch, & then we walked home, all the way down 4th Avenue (about 1.6 miles), decided to grab the all-important accordion files I needed for us, & for a client, on the way home.
& There was Kathryn Erbe! In Staples on 4th Avenue in Brooklyn! Kind of the least likely place I would have expected to see anyone, but it was her, & I didn’t gawk. The only odd thing was feeling safer with Eames in the house, which is of course desperately goofy since she’s an actor, not an actual NYPD detective.
We did make it home. I’d say we did a little more than 3 miles of walking, which means that my flat foot gave in & now I’m gimping with pain. But unfortunately there’s going to be a bit more pain before I get some of this weight off, which I have to do.
That’s what I buy at Target, too. For whatever reason, I seem to be able to find things like that there that fit me, really easily. Not regular clothes, though.
“TMI, maybe, but hey, you try finding cotton bras to support D cups in 90 degree heat & 90% humidity without sweating through them, & get back to me.”
I know the feeling, my friend.
Why write a novel when you can so wonderfully describe a simple shopping to such immense enjoyment?
The novel should be easy….
oh my gawd!
how cool.
did you watch jesse l. martin’s sendoff last night?
Oh, Atlantic Center. You know what I love about that place? Their Starbucks is actually slummier than your average Dunkin’ D — pretty impressive considering the majority of DDs in this town are veritable methadone lounges.