We all have a story to tell

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We all have a story to tell

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My friend wanted to take advantage of the two for one price glasses that were on sale.  She admitted she had a difficult time choosing one pair of glasses (really?  I never noticed :)) how would she ever choose two pair of glasses to qualify for the sale? 

Knowing it would take hours to decide, she asked if I could be tempted with a fancy coffee and dessert and then accompany her to the optical store afterwards and help her decide what to buy.  She caught me at a weak moment and I agreed.

As I entered the store I realized she neglected to tell me that there were rows and rows and ROWS of frames to choose from.  I headed for the lovely leather comfy chair prepared to take a long winters nap before she returned with her box full of frames to try on.

The plan was that she would parade before me on the long carpeted aisle, each pair of frames on her face.  The salesman that originally assisted her got bored with her long delays between choices and eventually stayed talking to me as my friend went back and forth picking different frames to put in her box.  I was a sitting target since the store was pretty empty.

He was from England he told me and remembered his oh so proper childhood where Sunday roast was served like clockwork every week and he and his siblings had to dress up for the meal though there was never any company.  Everything had to be eaten on the plate and the children were expected to be silent during meals.  He could not leave the table until all the others were finished.  After the roast beef dinner it was play time with his sisters and brother and after play time it was a Sunday drive.  The Sunday drive was exactly that, hours and hours of fields to gaze at.  No stopping for snacks in those days he told me as there were not all the drive in stores we have to select from that we have now.

Once again, my friend would start her fashion walk with even more choices of frames and the salesman would dutifully tell her what looked best on her.  As we talked about fashion he offered to loan me his ball gown.  Since he had long meticulous nails I suspected he had another life after the optical shop closed in the evenings so the offer of a ball gown made sense.

We laughed together as he told me his mother insisted he carried a cotton hankerchief at all times when he was growing up.  “Whatever for”? he asked me and Ihad to admit that his mother had brought him up to be a perfect gentleman.

My friend was still parading around with her glasses and by her tenth walk up and down had finally selected two pair of glasses.  I did resist the urge to stand up and shout ‘allehuia’ but I had been paid for my time with a latte so I couldn’t complain.

On our way out the door, I could not leave the store without going back to the sales associate and thanking him for his time.  What I thought was going to be many hours for my friend to decide turned out to be a wonderful entertaining hour with the sales associate.  Don’t miss the next opportunity that someone may take telling you theirstory, I guarantee you’ll come away richer for the experience.

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Caron is one of the blooms of Two Blooms Design Studio Est. 2002. She is the dreamer, production manager and the social media wannabe. Caron is married to the word adventure and she will never stop dreaming.