“Maybe they’re having a sale,” Eric said.
They weren’t, but you’d sure never have guessed it. The fairly small mirror section looked like Filene’s basement at the annual bridal gown sale. We whipped out our tape measure, as did the ten or twelve other mirror buyers, and dug in. Finally I narrowed it down to three I liked, but when I couldn’t make a decision in two and a half seconds Eric drifted away. Naturally, that’s when a clutch of NEW mirror buyers showed up, pulled out their measuring tapes and joined the fray. What do I do? Get the contemporary one? Or the traditional one with the nice molding? Or the traditional one that can’t decide if it’s gold, silver or something in between Zap! The contemporary one is gone. So then – the traditional with the molding, or the traditional that can’t decide …
“Oh! Sorry about that,” he mumbled, relieving me of the mirror. He picked it up like it was nothing more than a large newspaper and strode off toward the check-out leaving me to follow, bemused by the fact that he still hadn’t made the obvious connection.
“Well, look at it this way, “ he said. “At least there weren’t any scanners.”