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September 27, 2001-9:32 p.m. The sister�s wedding countdown has begun! Tonight after work, I went by the formal-wear establishment at the mall across the street from work for the purpose of picking up my dad�s and my brother�s tuxedos for the wedding. I went into the store and there was a man there being waited on. The clerk told me he would be with me in a moment and finished printing out this guy�s ticket. He gave him the receipt and the guy was just hanging around at the counter acting like he�d never seen a woman before or was perhaps a recent parolee. The clerk asked me if I was picking up an order for someone else. �No, I�m here to get a tuxedo for myself.� Clerk volunteers that at one time they did carry tuxedos for women. How about that! �Actually, I�m here to pick up tuxedos for Daddy and Bubba.� Clerk smiles. Weirdo repeats, �Daddy and Bubba� I give the clerk the receipts from the fittings and he enters them into the computer. While I�m waiting, �China Girl� comes on over the PA. Weirdo, who has by this time moved away from the counter and is now browsing around, starts singing along. �My little China girl. . . oh, baby. . . .� Now the clerk tells me that there is a balance due on Daddy�s tux because shoes were added at another location. What the heck? �I don�t see any shoes here.� �We needed his size� I call home and talk with my dad and he says he didn�t order shoes. There should be no shoes. He has black shoes. �And when my China girl . . . hush your mouth.� Clerk gets another guy out of the back to take the shoes off of the order. They give me the tuxedos and the receipts and I high-tail it the hell out of there. I get to the parking lot and there is a Mexican guy putting a bra (the car kind) on the car next to me. He gets that done while I try and figure out where the garment hook is in the new vehicle. Then he moves his car out of that spot and across the row and another car with two other Mexican guys who are obviously his buddies takes its place. The original guy comes back over and meets them at their car and I notice that he has an unusually large neck. It�s as if his neck is swollen to twice its normal size and it�s weird and creepy-looking. A few minutes ago, as I'm typing this, the phone rang. "I'm calling fer Sis" How horrible would your name have to be that you are willing to go by the moniker "Sis"? I�m starting to feel like a character in an art-house film. I shudder to think that this may be a portentous omen for the rest of my weekend. Next time: Can Sa�s weekend get any more Fellini-esque?!? **Disclaimer: All characters in this diary are fictional. Any resemblance to actual people living or dead, real or imagined, is purely coincidental and unintentional.** |
