It's funny how sometimes, the meer act of closing a door will cause a pressure differential that causes another to open...
So Thursday morning, I found myself walking down Laurel St. in order to visit Plantation Coffee and the ATM before heading off to work. Between these two points is a litte store. Well actually there are many little stores, but there was one in particular that caught my eye since it was having a sale on leather jackets. I'ld been thinking that I needed a new jacked for a while now as my old one is a little loose. Actually it's all the way to baggy. But since I'm heading off to work, I check the hours and decide to come back another time.
I finally get around to going early Saturday afternoon (seeing as how they closed before their advertised time Friday night). And I wandered in a started to look through their selection. There was a nice collection, and as I settled on a style, and starting working through what size to get, the stores owner/salesperson comes by to help me with my selection.
She helps me to find the right size (medium. yay.), and proceed to tell me how good I look in it. I score this as trying to butter me up for the sale, but she continues speaking well to me, even after I've commited to the purchase. Of course this is when she mentions that she has a 27 year old daughter she wants to see married.
Ever the saleswoman she shows me some pictures of her daughter (very pretty, and with a pretty nice destination in 30 years as well) and tells me how shes a psychologist (or psychiatrist. I stored the data as smart and working with the mind and didn't try to keep track of whether or not she had a prescription pad), and tells me that I should come by her house for dinner, dancing and an introduction.
So I swapped numbers with mom, and I'll have to see where it goes from here. But, I just can't get the cliche "mom, I don't need you to meddle" scene out of my head. Of course I can't see it acurately as whenever I picture it I hear the conversation with a Jewish accent.