Ooooh. Pretty.

It’s torture. And I’m pretty sure it’s deliberate. The whole world knows I covet a convertible, and the more I want one, the more there are on the road. Tormenting me. Teasing me. Making sure I see that THOSE people have one and I don’t.

We went to the flea market again today, and there’s a dealership that takes half a dozen of their used cars and sells the, there. Today the guy had a brilliant-white ’95 LeBaron GTC with only 84,000 miles sitting there. $4500. [snarl] I’m pretty sure he knew I was coming, and only brought it as a way to give me a good, hard, emotional wedgy.

It’s a conspiracy, I know it.

I think I’m addicted to the flea market. I have an urge to get a bunch of crap together and rent a booth. Every weekend. Only problem is I don’t have that much crap to sell… There are people there who have regular rentals, and they’re basically weekend-stores; that would be awesome. I could do that, if I could think of decent products. Something besides sunglasses, t-shirts, or swords. Too many people are already selling those.

Yep. Swords. Lots and lots of swords. Most of them are cheap crap, but there’s one woman who sells some really nice stuff, and Spouse Thingy loves swords. He says he wants to get a collection going, but I’m pretty sure it’s just that he’s attracted to bright, shiny things, and those are masculine enough that he won’t get laughed at for having them.

Gotta admit, I think they’re pretty cool, too.

The convertible would be cooler. By far.

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