Thursday, February 14, 2013

The Power of a Sweater

I dislike Valentines Day.  I really do.

I put on red or pink and some holiday socks, and I attempt to grin and bear it, while those around me flaunt their flowers and chocolates and oodles of love they receive. 

Whatever!

So, today, after being breathed upon by The Cat, which pretty much gave a tangible example of why I dislike this holiday so much, I got up and put on the outfit I'd picked out for the day.  Only, I didn't want to wear it.

Oh ladies ... when this little wrinkle in the "laying out of the outfit" process occurs, it's almost as though you've disturbed the delicate balance of the world, doesn't it? And the rest of the day will be off because of it; do I not speak the truth!?

There really isn't enough coffee in the world after such a disruption.

I finally landed upon a pair of trouser jeans and a v-neck sweater I've not worn in quite awhile.  There is a history to this sweater.  Not a good one either.  I've not worn it in a while not because of the history, but because it's not fit me very well.  These days, however, things are fitting me so much better!  This is a good thing; oh boy is it ever!

While admiring how the sweater now lays over my curves, I was reminded of my history with this sweater. 

One must travel back in time 11 ... maybe 12 years ago ... to a car lot back in Michigan.  This was when I bought LITTLE RED, my current truck, and while all has ended well in that front, my mother wanted to kill both my dad and myself after we signed on the dotted line without really thinking through the ramifications of said purchase of vehicle.  It's a long story, and not part of the overriding theme of this one, but let's just say the words, "I KNEW I SHOULDN'T HAVE TRUSTED YOU TWO ALONE" through gritted teeth were uttered by the matriarch of my family. 

But this salesman wanted the sale, and he was certainly friendly enough with my dad and I.  And my dad liked working with him.  He said he felt like he could trust him. 

Uh-huh ... famous last words.

There was paperwork snafu, and about a month later, I was informed I'd been driving around the countryside in a truck I technically didn't own.

WHOA!  Come again!?

My super friendly salesman assured me that we'd have things buttoned up without a problem if I could just make my way to his office after school one day. 

Sure thing!  Because while I wasn't exactly excited about the prospect of car payments, I certainly wanted to know that I was not in any danger of being arrested for driving a stolen vehicle.  So, of course, I'd be at his office that afternoon.

It was a Friday, and I was wearing a pair of jeans and this sweater as I wheeled into the dealership.  Waiting in front of the giant picture window, I caught the reflection of my salesman behind me, and I realized that he was standing there looking at me ... only looking wouldn't exactly be the best term ... ogling?  Yeah, ogling.  I waited for him to get his eyeful, before I turned around to "Mmmm....I don't remember my teacher ever looking that good in a sweater."

Now, this would have been mildly entertaining if a few factors had been in play:
  1. He was single.
  2. He was remotely good-looking.
  3. He was even close to my age.
None of these factors were viable.  In fact, weeks before, he was telling my dad just how happily married he was. 

He then shuttled me into his office, closed his door, and proceeded to say, "I am not exactly sure what I'd do if my teacher smelled as good as you and looked as good as you do in that sweater."

CREEPY!

I signed whatever he put in front of me ... quickly ... and got the heck out of there.  I also told my dad that I didn't like that man and never wanted to do business with him again. 

You know what?  My dad is such an honorable man, I'm not sure he ever did any business with him again....

So, yes, this sweater has history ... it has power, too, it would seem.

Perhaps, it is not by mistake that I wear this sweater ... on this day ... if only there was some place to wield the power ... rather than heading home to be breathed upon by The Cat once again ...

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