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Posts Tagged ‘salvation army’

grandma_wii_bowlingI woke up the day after Thanksgiving with a massive headache.  No, I wasn’t hungover.  No, I wasn’t getting sick.  It’s just the after effects of a very stressful week.  Friends visiting, friends having babies, grandpas in the hospital, the usual.  Of course, as you know, I witnessed my best friend give birth to a child, which was at the very least:  horrific.  But not as horrifying as it is two days later when the images keep popping into the forefront of your mind.  Then my Thanksgiving consisted of watching my grandma, who is a self-proclaimed Wii bowling champion at her assisted living home, battle it out with my uncle and dad.  Well, she currently has a bad hip and wears frog green polyester pants, and everytime she pulled her arm back to release the bowling ball, she let out a fart.   Pretty soon I had to move to the other side of the couch, where my mom and my aunt were having a huge fight about who was going to host Christmas.  

 [Let me preface the next section by saying that my 99 saturn with duck tape covering a hole in the hood, although esthetically phenomenal, is not an all-terrain vehicle.  More on that later. ]

So I had made my annual plan to go shopping on Black Friday.  But when the morning came I called my girlfriend, who was supposed to accompany me, but she actually was hungover.  And depressed.  So I called Kenny.  Kenny’s always up for shopping.  Well, Kenny was depressed too.  I guess depression rates really do rise around the Holidays.  So after five hours of trudging through crowds of unruly shoppers by myself, I had seven bags on my arm cutting off the circulation to my heart.  After narrowly escaping a heart attack, I went to pick up my yellow Salvation Army chair with Kenny.

So I accidentally wandered into the Salvation Army again last week, and took a liking to a yellow chair, which I asked if i could pick it up later that day.  Of course, five days had passed since that conversation took place.  So Kenny had no choice but to help me.  For over 30 minutes, we were shivering in the parking lot (with several onlookers) having the following conversation:

me:  its GOING to fit

kenny:  no.  no it’s NOT.  how in the world can you think this is going to fit?

me: cus it’s not that big!

kenny: thats what she said.  haha.  ok seriously, yes it IS THAT BIG, because we can’t get it in!

me: thats what she said.  haha. ok, seriously, if we could just take the legs off it would be fine.

kenny: yea, thats a really good idea.  except they are attached.

me: well, lets try it diagonal in the backdoor again.

random guy:  you know, I used to move furniture for a living.  .. do you guys need some help? 

Kenny and me:  NO, we’re fine.

random guy:  well, do you mind if i just stand here and watch?  cus this is pretty entertaining.

kenny:  we’re just gonna have to put it in the trunk.

chair-in-trunk

me:  but i won’t be able to close it AT ALL.  isn’t that illegal?  isn’t that a hazard?

kenny:  we’re gonna have to come back then

me:  it’s already been sitting here 5 days, i have to take it.  but how will we tie it down?  I don’t have anything.  Go find some twine.

[kenny goes back inside, comes back after ten minutes, holding what appears to be rope]

telephone-cordme: you are AWESOME!  this is why i love you.   [ I grab the rope and start putting it around the chair]  wait, what is this?

kenny:  a telephone cord.

me: A TELEPHONE CORD?  what the?!  how am i supposed to tie anything with a telephone cord? 

kenny:  Don’t worry, i got two of them.  and a scarf.

me: SO?@$%

Check out more of the Kenny Chronicles:

How to talk yourself out of dating almost anyone

A Conversation at Starbucks

A Bad Gordita and Some Classy Water

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So the other day I wander into the Salvation Army.  Why?  Because it’s across the street from where I work.  And because I’m looking for some props for a photo shoot.  Ok.  And because I’m poor.  Why do our conversations always consist of you making me feel like crap? 

the_salvation_army_thrift_store

Anyway, WHY i went there isn’t what’s important Inspector Gadget.  As I’m strolling around and sifting through the ginormous pile of other people’s crap, I am taken aback by the smell of mildew and grandmas.  I find a couple of cool lamps, a chair, and some other random things that might be useful for my plans.    I started to walk over to the book section, just to see if i could find some good looking books, and what happened next was completely out of my control;  thus, I do not take responsibility whatsoever.  [much like with everything in my life] 

So I’m standing there staring at a huge wall of books and so I start doing what any person such as myself would do: peeling off all the sleeves to see if there are any books that match the colors in my living room and/or office area (they’re only a buck, and how can you ever have enough?).  In case I haven’t mentioned it, I collect books.  No, not antique ones, or special ones, or limited editions – just ones that match my color scheme.   I don’t actually read them, so much as I  admire them on my shelves and let them give the impression to all the world that I am mind-blowingly intelligent.  Because in all actuality, I hate to read.  And queue the following conversation between you and I:

you:  but, wait, weren’t you an English major?

me:  why, yes.  yes i was.

you: isn’t that kind of a weird choice of major for someone who doesn’t like to read?

me:  why yes.  yes it is.

you:  so how did you get through that if you hate to read?

me:  well, first I used cliffs notes and then i just quit.

you: oh.  so this all goes back to you being a loser then?

me:  wait, what?  how are you cutting me down again? this is a hypothetical conversation!

Alright, so to recap:  I like pretty books to put on my pretty shelves for my big, fat, fake life.  okay?  I can’t get enough.  So as I’m browsing the books, this man comes running down the ramp and says “wow, $0.10 a book today, can’t beat that huh?”  To which my response was “you’ve GOT to be kidding me!”  No.  folks, this was no joke.  Immediately, I started stockpiling them.   As I am racing to tear off every book sleeve possible before they closed, i am distracted by the following conversation between him and i:

book man:  find anything interesting?

me:  uh not really.  i mean, i really don’t care what they say.

book man:  (takes out a little gadget and scans a book)  well, i’m actually in the book business.  I sell used books.  This one is worth $94.00.  Anything I can help you find?

me:  well, i’m just looking for certain colors.  I only need them for my fake life.

book man:  (just laughing hysterically and sort of staring in awe) 

me:  ( after ten minutes of conversation and filling up TWO carts of books) ….well, I think this is all I can fit in my car, but i got some really good ones. 

book man:  Well good.  good for you.  it was nice meeting you.  you are a very unique and interesting woman. 

….And when i got home I sorted all 52 books into piles by color on my ottoman and sat down on my couch to stare at the victory I had just won.  As I was staring, I realized that now my own living room had acquired the smell of mildew and grandmas.  But it was worth it, all $5.41.

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