The Good, The Bad And The Just Plain Wierd

This day started too early. I awoke with a start and realized that it was, indeed Saturday. Time to schlep my wares down the road to the flea market. He Who is not a wizard with a measuring tape constructed a PVC pipe clothes hanging device on which to display my many creations. When I noted that one side was taller than the other, he calmly explained that he planned it that way in order to better show off all that I had to offer, saying it would be more obvious that there were two rows of merchandise.

Clever guy, He Who makes it up as he goes. It was a mere 2 inch difference. Enough to notice a mistake had been made in the measuring, but not enough to do what he claimed. Does he really think I fell for that? I appreciate his efforts, though. I sold enough to pay for my space for two weeks and actually make a profit. Got a special order, too. All thanks to Barb, the famous eyeglass guru, owner of Here's Two Eyes, who not only shared her space, but did the selling so I could come back and carry on with my kampground duties.

That is the good part of my day. I came back, made the coffee, cleaned the restrooms and started my day. It was only 8 AM and by my calculations I still had one glorious hour of me time before my 12 hours behind this counter began. Two cars come into the park. Neither paid any attention whatsoever to the STOP sign or my speed limit. I watched from the garden I was thinking to weed.

Sighing deeply, prepared to give my "why I have a stop sign" speech and tactfully move into the reason for the speed limit, I approach the front of the building and cheerfully ask if I can be of assistance. A swimsuit clad woman is exiting one car, while talking to her friend in the other car, not yet out of her vehicle. She looks over at me, as if I am disturbing her and announces, "We are here to swim."

I push down the words, "No you are not." that are trying to escape my lips and explain to her that the pool does not open until 11 AM. She looks at me disgustedly and shouts "What?!" So, instead of my traffic sign speech I lapse into my litany of, "The pool is open daily from 11 AM until 7 PM, it is $3.50 per person. Upon paying and signing in, you may leave and return later if you choose." Again, stopping more words from leaving my mouth, I don't add "I hope I didn't use words you do not understand." Because she is now looking at me as if I am levitating to another dimension right before her eyes .......

I know right then that today will be very interesting, if somewhat annoying. The next incident occurs outside, also. I decide to check on the supply of paper product in the restrooms. This is important, because people will not tell me if the toilet paper is running low or completely gone. They will simply move the paper towels to the stall and use them and flush them and create an entirely different problem. Before I can go back inside, two girls in the pool call to me, "Hey, lady, we caught your bullfrog." Until then, I was blissfully unaware that I was the owner of a bullfrog. A young girl, looking to be around 12 or 13 comes running to me, across the freshly cut grass, pool net and long pole in hand. She wants to introduce me to the frog she assumed was my pet because he was swimming in the pool. A younger girl of about 6 is in hot pursuit to witness the owner and frog reunion.

Sweet little girls, in touch with nature. Is that what you are thinking? Not me. I am thinking more practical thoughts. Thoughts like wet feet, loose grass, algae in the pool. She proudly shows me the frog, then asks if she should return him (do frogs have genders?) to the pool. Seriously. Her innocense is touching. I tell her she can just release him to the grass and to wipe her feet off before getting back into the pool, lest she be the reason the pool closes early. She turns to go and whacks her little sister in the head with the long pole.

I can see it happening in slow motion and try to grab it before it hits her. I fail. I hear the hollow echo as it conks the little girl on the side of her head. "Oh, no. Sweetie are you okay?" I say. The little slip of a girl turns and says, "It's okay, I got hit in the head a lot when I was a little girl."

I stood there pondering this as they scampered back into the pool surround and both carefully toweled the grass from their feet before returning to the water. "When I was a little girl" ....... she is a little girl right now. Maybe I did actually levitate to another dimension.

Okay, last but not least. I was taking inventory of the Pringles (my biggest seller, don't know why, but folks around here can't seem to get enough of these chips from a tube) when I heard the door open. Finishing my task and saying "I will be right with you", I turn to see the side view of a woman at my counter. Given the fact that she is clad in a skimpy bikini, I know immediately that she must be a swimmer. But, that is not what caught my eye. The triangles on her bikini top could barely contain her enormous breasts. They were impressive, these obvious implants. The woman was not a big woman, in fact her frame was very petite, making her look as if she would topple over any minute. As I pull my eyes away from the perfect, non-sagging globes adorning her small frame, my eyes were immediately drawn to her midriff. It was loose skinned and flabby. More familiar to me. I have one similar to that, although I think mine may be more well toned.

I go to my side of the counter and ask  my normal questions. "Swimming today? How many?"  She looks up from signing her group of names onto the list. Her face is over tanned and very wrinkled. She has the tell-tell wrinkles of a life long smoker around her lips and looks to be about my age. As she leans over to get her money, one of her enormous chest adornments is smashed into the counter. This thing doesn't change shape at all.

I am not done yet, stay with me. While my mind is wondering what kind of plastic surgeon implanted these too perfect, too firm mounds on this woman and told her she looked good, she opens her mouth to speak. All I can say is that she should have used that money for dental work, although, I am certain that her implants may serve well as flotation devises!