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Amuse me, darling

November 21, 2006

The summer after I met my husband, then boyfriend, in Ptown I had the pleasure to work for Pascal and Laura in their jewelery/”art” gallery. The gallery was a joke and the paintings all came from an assembly line in China, but hey, if it goes with your couch perfectly I guess it is art. I especially loved the jewelery store and when it was slow and we were selling nothing we would put on about $30,000 worth of stuff and shashay around staring at our reflection in the big mirror and large picture windows illuminated by the neon sign. Pink neon does wonders for your complection. I need one to follow me everywhere I go.

The best thing about the store was making people buy stuff. I love to sell. I am a born sales person. When you are cooking with gas, and everything is in place and you make them say yes and hand over their credit card it is best feeling. I know I am not well. I miss it though. Later, in another life, I sold very expensive antiques and once sold a $20,000 dining room table, JUST a table , to this guy and truly it was one of the top 20 moments in my life. Sick, I know.

Laura and Pascal had this giant beautiful perfect looking Golden Retriever named Bailey. Bailey did tricks, wore sunglasses and a peppy bandana and when he wasn’t entertaining he was the most lovely dog-type rug laying in the sun of the front porch of the store. Ptown is a busy place and many people have dogs. They bring their dogs on vacation. They order their dogs steaks for dinner while they dine alfresco sipping Pinot Grigio. My husbands familys place served a kid cheese burger to Debbi Harrys chihuahua once. There are whole stores dedicated to the pleasure of your pet….I think there might be about 4 stores dedicated to animals and it is a very small town. So you get it—they like dogs there.

One afternoon I was just coming to work and stopped on the porch to finish my cigarette standing next to Bailey. This couple wearing matching shirts and fanny packs walked by and stared at Bailey. They looked up and smiled at me. I smiled back thinking they might buy a tacky painting from me later this week. Suckers. The man says, “That is a beautiful dog.” I say thanks and smile. He asks, “What is his name?” I smile again and repeat for about the millionth time that summer and it was only July, “His name is Bailey.” The woman asks, “What kind of dog is it?” I say, stopping to pause because they are one of the most common dogs around, but indulge them smiling and pronouce, “He is a Golden Retriever. Bailey is 6 years old and very friendly–you can pet him if you want.” The woman says, “Um, ick, he is all wet!” The man asks me, “Why is he all wet?”

I pause and look at them a tad too long before speaking. You see the store is about 100 yards from the beach. You can actually see the beach from where we stood. He is a retriever and that is what they are known to do. Swim. In the water. Even if you are not aware of the nature of Retrievers and have forgotten for a moment you are on vacation at the beach it could be also logical to conclude that the dog just had a bath because it is summer and hot or maybe he was dirty. It did not seem that strange to me that he was wet. Perhaps that was not really their question.

I answer, “I spit on him.” They turn to each other and whisper in clipped voices and shout at me, “That is not very nice.”

I shurg and say, “Not my dog

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2 Comments leave one →
  1. November 21, 2006 5:29 pm

    Oh you’re terrible, terrible. But they asked for it. Fanny packs.

  2. gina permalink
    November 22, 2006 5:51 am

    you are such a smartass!

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