Sometimes I feel like a buoy in the ocean. Rocking and swaying without anywhere to go, but ultimately getting nauseous from it all.
Not that a buoy gets sick, but you get the point.
Recently, T. and I went to the local beauty supply store, in hopes of finding the way and the light towards true beauty. We did not find much of that, but we did manage to stumble upon a hypodermic needle in the parking lot. The sight of such a thing threw T. into superhero mode, and off we went to find someone with the strength and the skill to battle this evil foe.
The woman in the beauty supply store was shocked and dismayed at the news, but ultimately unable to do anything to help. She turned back to her nail polish and pumice stones and we left in search for a more earnest hero.
Ah, the superchain grocery store. Here is where heroes are fashioned. The manager boldy grabbed several plastic bags and with bulging muscles and a rather sexy glint in his bifocals, he saved the world from certain doom -- closing off the dread needle within the confines of an Albertson's sack.
And thus, T. and I were able to renew our hope in the future of parking lots everywhere, and go on to more important things, such as triple barrel curling irons, electronic wax warmers, and tea tree oil.
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