Since all (nine) of you have been so good, I think I'll actually treat you to a story from my vacation. Not one about Saturday, which I spent walking around in the rain reflecting on my future and all of the possibilities spread out before me.
No! This is about a YARN STORE.
See, while I was in New Hope I stopped by two yarn stores since all of the ones near me have either closed or are run by old bitches. The first one I went to was awesome! It was run by a woman about my Mom's age, and since I was the only customer there we had a nice chat about felting and yarn and the Kutztown Festival.
The problem was the second one.
The second I stepped in I knew I was in one of *those* shops. This wasn't a shop run by someone who loved knitting and accepting all knitters. No, this was run by a rich old woman who was pissed off that people outside of her circle of friends was shopping there. I was greeted as I walked in (by someone who didn't work there, the shopkeeper ignored me) and I wandered off to go find some affordable yarn.
Hah. Half of the shop was taken up by spinning wheels and enough roving to pay for me to go back to school. Finally, in a dusty corner I found the discount bin and the cheapest ball of yarn there cost $20 holy shit. If that wasn't bad then I found a kit for a scarf that cost $150! Jesus Christ!
After a little digging around I found a ball of 220 (wool, for you non-yarn freaks) at a shockingly reasonable $6. It was a nice red/black mix so I decided to grab it. One of nowhere the shopkeep appears next to me, offering to hold it while "I continued shopping."
"Oh no." I said, "I'm just buying this one skein."
I'm pretty sure she would have stabbed me right there and then if she could.
Some people may be put off by a look of pure vile and hatred from a yarn store owner. Not me! Hell, I can't wait to come back next year! I'm going to buy an even cheaper ball of yarn!
TODAY'S SODA: Sarsaparilla
Who the fuck put soap in my root beer?