About six months ago I met my husband, Dave, for lunch at the Gateway. Afterwards, I decided to do a little shopping. Now, I don’t think I have mentioned how much I love shopping. I was raised on the basic principle that:
There isn’t a problem that can’t be solved, if the answer means there is shopping involved!!
So, I am blissfully strolling through the streets… in my element …. thinking there is nothing that could spoil this lovely day. I wander into Brighton and head straight for the jewelry. You cannot imagine the sheer pleasure I get from this display of trinkets. I am trying on an absolutely adorable charm bracelet when this woman in the store decides to LOUDLY share a story about her son leaving on his mission. She literally starts to give a speech about the event. She continues her saga and the two sales people are so entranced they are nearly moved to tears. Since I am the only other person in this very small store, they glance over in my direction waiting for me to join in on the love fest. They clearly can not figure out why I am not captivated by this story and they stare at me as if I were some kind of freak. Really!!! Don’t they notice that I am shopping here? Does religion have to follow me everywhere? Well, this little episode sends me right over the edge. I drop the bracelet, and run out of the store in tears.
Silly? You bet!
I sat on a bench outside of Brighton for about fifteen minutes and sobbed. I felt so sad, alone, and very stupid. Why had I let this loud mouth woman intrude on my delightful shopping excursion? I have nothing against her pride in her son and his mission, but staring at me like I was from Mars was rude and mean. Well…guess what missy? In the words of the handsome and smooth Rhett Butler, “Frankly my dear, I don’t give a damn!”