You know your life passport has a valid visa to adulthood when you rush out of work to buy a vacuum cleaner on sale.
She's a tiny beauty, just like the first place I get to call my very own. But, she almost didn't make it home with me.
I arrived at the store well in advance of closing, but failed to consider the masses who also retrieved the sales flyer in their mail the day before the end of the sale as I had.
Precious minutes sailed by as I frantically fumbled around browsing shoppers for the correct aisle. I finally relented and relied on the guidance of a customer service attendant to set me on course – then panic set in. The shelf was empty. There were 26 in stock when I checked at lunch!
I gripped the crumpled flyer in my hand, as my eyes darted from the empty shelf to every other vacuum brand in stock except the one I had my sights set on. My trance was suddenly broken by the feeling I was being watched. As I met the downcast gaze of another customer, I noticed she had my vacuum in her hands. If you ever doubted whether women mark and guard their territories, enter the shopping zone during a sale. I wanted to ask her where she got the prized item but badmind took over. Why didn't she just tell me, eh?!? Clearly she is trained in the art of mind reading with her eyes all shifty-like.
When our dance in the aisle ended, I noticed two boxes resting neatly above eye level. Rejoicing on the inside, I felt comforted knowing that I too would get to leave the store a vacuum owner.
Collection of cleaning apparatus - complete; new passport stamp – check.
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