Somehow I doubt that Jacqueline-- la femme de mon adjutant-- would find the sexual habits of Edgar Desgas and Van Gogh, and how this may have affected their color perceptions, acceptable topics for gift-wrap conversation with customers.

Nevertheless. The gentleman was a very nice middle aged heterosexual having a gift-- a cracked-glass votive holder with a little glass bee on it-- wrapped for his 74 year old grandmother. I was apologising for the garish color selections, and he claimed colorblindness, and remarked that his wife insists all heterosexual men are color blind anyway. This got me started on Desgas, who, to the best of my knowledge, was quite heterosexual, and whom I love explicitly for the colors he uses. The gentleman promptly launched into commentary on Desgas' probable pedophilia and the brutal nature of the dancing profession.

We wound up exculding painters from colorblindness, as a general rule, regardless of sexual orientation.

Remarkable people shop at my store. I had a beautiful blonde Parisienne the day before yesterday, with an Alsatian accent. Yesterday, there was a girl who had, in her bag, Laurel K. Hamilton's Kiss of Shadows and Tool's Opiate CD, which is my favorite.

A couple of days ago, I wound up in a very long conversation with a chineese woman about language, and wound up explaining to her some of the principle qualities of Hebrew, and she told me about Chineese.

I've met a would be DA, and the owners of two excellent bars and restauraunts, and lots of stripes of foreigners with all kinds of wonderful accents. I thik my favorite was the pacific-islander (he really looked Samoan, but he may have been Hawaiian) jew from Miami. Not that Miami is a foreign country (except to wit).

We got another shipment of the wonderful plastic knights, lords, ladies, and dragons. But every time I set up a joust, someone purchases my lancers! Grr.

But we now have Jeanne d'arc in both red and blue. Yay! And horses for allll the musketeers!

Saving up for a pair of earrings, a parasol, a dragon, Athos, Porthos, a patchouli votive candle, french laundry powder and linen water, fabulous Lautrec-era posters, a tin of dominoes, several picture frames, and cards galore to send to lots and lots of people.

Back to contemplating the erstwile adventures of Amis on Mardi Gras, and all the odours inherent to verse. And, Oh yes. Happy Independence day. vs. Dependence day, of course.

<<agé chose>>

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