Shirts

Boy, ya lose one little scrap of paper and your blobbin' days are over. At least for awhile. But, Jodi, when she isn't STEPPING on STITCH, seems to get me going in a forward motion again. I managed to comment on Barbara's blog. Surprazz, surprazz. When we were at the rappelling event one family made sure that the announcer mentioned that their guy was a MARINE. We all smiled. Ben would never let himself be so flagrently bragged on.

I mentioned in a response to Barb's blog that I only have two shirts. I lied. I have over 40 shirts. Why so many, you might ask. It's a long story and you can stop reading right here if you like. GET BACK HERE! It happened like this. I had a normal number of shirts. But the Penneys in the Cottonwoos Mall was selling everything, even the shelves. I bought a royal blue shirt at half price because I was headed for a BYU game. ROYAL blue is the TRUE Cougar blue! Ya got that?

The clothing was selling out like Carlos Boozer has been selling out the Jazz. Inexplicably, everything in Penneys pretty much sold out except the men's shirts. They dropped to 60% off. I bought a couple more. Seventy percent off. This was kinda fun, considering that we live only 2 blocks away. Eighty percent off. Wheeeee! On the tragic day when Penneys was closing that store forever, every item in the joint was selling for 90%off plus 15%off that total. Hmmm. 90% off a $40 dollar shirt equals $4.00. 15 off that is 60 cents. Beautiful $40 shirts for $3.40? Oh, yeah. They were all long sleeve with winter coming on. A huge assortment in my size. OH, YEAH.

We got there as the doors were opening. I started draping shirts over my left arm so my right hand would be free for some fast work. I piled up so many shirts that I could barely see over the pile. My arm was beginning to hurt. All things in moderation, they say. Heh heh. By this time a large crowd had gathered, and I knew I was done. I headed for the checkstand.

Suddenly, I was told to leave the store. Maybe moderation is a good standard after all. Not only was I told to leave the store, but to never come back. Well, yeah, that's easy to say on the day the store is closing forever. Was it the clerk telling me this? The manager? No, it was my wife. Maudeen had only found one pathetic little shirt. I told her how very sorry I was as I shoved past her to the land-o-glory. The checkstand.

All apologies if this sounds like a ruler event.