It’s past time for this communication. I usually don’t have too much trouble communicating3 So why is when I call you, sometimes frazzled and sometimes amused, and say, “I’m lost,” why do you always, without fail, say to me, “’Where are you?” Is this an ancient riddle I’ve never read?
What part of “I’m lost” is so hard to understand?
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Every woman I know is puzzled as to why they put fluorescent lights in department store dressing rooms. Guaranteed to make one look awful, they are pure, unadulterated evil. These stores spend a great deal of money on design and marketing. You would think somebody would tell them to get the fluorescent lights out of the room where folks on trying on clothes to see if they’re interested in purchasing.
Really basic, right?
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It was a dark and stormy night when Lucy was driving home from the beach. The car headlights were ineffectual even though she had the brights on. She couldn’t see the side of the road clear enough to dare pulling over. She slowed the car to a crawl, turned down the radio, and steeled her nerves for what she hoped was the worst of the deluge.
Her skin was tight and itchy from the last-day-at-the beach-caution-to-the-wind sunburn. The excess alcohol at breakfast exacerbated the situation. The beach trip had been delightful. Due to sundry financial emergencies, her three partners-in-crime had to cancel their plans to go. In a fit of derring-do, Lucy decided to go alone. Oh sure, it would be expensive bearing the whole cost of the condo, but she had always wanted to go on a solo trip to the beach. She had a credit card she reserved for emergencies. Could opportunities to accomplish a bucket list item be considered an emergency? She convinced herself that it could.
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W. Va. Fur and Root 