Prezzie

Whew, a full day of shopping, after going on a small side jaunt which kept me away for the larger part of yesterday.

(I refuse to say I'm "exhausted" because I know full well how ridiculous that sounds, after appending "shopping" to my activity. Yes, I was tired yesterday after arriving home, too tired to blog in fact, but I didn't pick cotton in the fields or feed a brood of 6, so I reckon I'll survive)

As you know, that chum of mine who is throwing an 1980's theme party, has a birthday coming up in April.

So, I decided to traipse to antique shops for that perfect present, faced with a modest budget, but expensive tastes -- a deadly combination for shopping.

To boot, he's a well-to-do man, a bank executive, who lives in a condo in Coral Gables.

He likes good living, but clean Art Nouveau lines, sometimes punctuated by more ornate items in certain nooks and crannies of his flat.

Off I went with all these factors in mind.

First antique shop I hit, was a disaster.

Sometimes one just knows when someone dislikes you, and that was the immediate sensation I got from this older woman with blue eyeshadow.

I'm not sure if you do this, but when I meet a person I try to imagine what that person is named.

This one I assigned the name of Myrtle.

After trying to bargain with her on one wonderful item, a cheese bell, I was rebuffed, so I left in a semi-huff (you know how, you say "thank you, good day" quietly, and turn on your heel to go out).

Not having too many options after that, since the items I saw were far beyond my budget, I went to Macy's and scouted their home section.

I ended up buying a toast rack from coincidentally a British lady who came here as a child, and had one of the most high-pitched Brooklynese voices you can imagine -- think Fran Drescher.

The only problem is that she was raised, since the age of 10, in Ft. Lauderdale.

That's like me appropriating a Southie accent from Boston, or a cornpone Alabama accent...which I rather like actually.

(The lady did pay me a compliment of saying I had a soothing voice, unlike hers, which of course, made my day)

Toast rack, schmoast rack, I still didn't have my chum's present bought. So I hit the pavement again.

Would you believe it, I ended up finding the perfect item in one of those speciality stores which cater to the "I want that perfect gift I'll never use, but I want anyway, like an ivory backscratcher".

And do you know what that was? Well how could you. But try to imagine before looking below.

Remember:

Single man. No wife to keep him on track. Expensive tastes. Nice tschokes in home already.

(Plus add a friend who wants to treat him to something nice, but has no gainful employment other than blogging at present)

That's right, I bought him an antique reproduction one-of-kind mass made bracket portico clock, circa 2004!!



Don't worry, I didn't know it was a "portico clock", either, until my antiques-mad mother saw it and told me.

Rather nifty for a confirmed bachelor, don't you think?

Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm off to make my toast.

I'll be back for more blogatory loving a bit later.

P.S.: He doesn't read my blog. He doesn't even know it exists. But should you know him, shhh! for God's sake. Here, have some toast.

UPDATE: Yikes. I remembered that he does indeed know about the blog, because he's read one or two posts I asked him to look over, once. But I know for sure he doesn't read it on his own -- since he sheepishly told me he doesn't read stuff online. What a nerd.