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Yesterday, I stopped at the local JoAnn's (sewing and craft chain store) to check out some items. The kids had some new Transformers, so they were happily, fairly quietly parked at the pattern book table tranforming, while I looked around.
Checked out the various sale fabrics (oh, pretty, oh, ewwww, oh, yuck), and moseyed about. On my journey I passed the cutting table. There was a bit of a line of people, and each person seemed to have several bolts of fabric to be cut.
<aside>I have yet to figure out where the JoAnn fabric cutters appear from. There won't be anyone there, then suddenly someone will appear when you approach. Sometimes, three of them suddenly appear, but you will never see them anywhere else in the store. I believe there may be a small transporter unit, but I'm not interested enough to investigate. Back to the story.</aside>
That's when Creepy Camo Guy entered my view. He appeared to be in his early 20s. 90s slacker goatee in place. His baseball cap was olive camo. His shirt was olive camo. His pants were olive camo. His shoes were olive camo with black suede trim. He had a cell phone, but I could not see if it were olive camo, as he had it firmly gripped in his meaty, cellar-toned hand. His skin had that general look of living out of the sun's rays, in a small, back bedroom with dark drapes, or in a basement fixed up as a game room, where he spends his time playing XBOX 360 Live. Actually, he looks like he tried to play XBOX 360 Live, but probably gets his ass kicked regularly, so he plays by himself.
The woman he was with I assumed was his mother. She had the look of having been rode hard and put away wet for about 25 years. Of course, the thought I had later that she might not be his mother left me feeling sick and cringing, and yet hopeful that in this way he will never have children. If you've ever seen those pictures of women in their 30s taken during the Great Depression in the U.S., you have some idea of this woman.
The icing on this cake of ick: Three of the seven pieces of fabric they were getting were olive camo.
Checked out the various sale fabrics (oh, pretty, oh, ewwww, oh, yuck), and moseyed about. On my journey I passed the cutting table. There was a bit of a line of people, and each person seemed to have several bolts of fabric to be cut.
<aside>I have yet to figure out where the JoAnn fabric cutters appear from. There won't be anyone there, then suddenly someone will appear when you approach. Sometimes, three of them suddenly appear, but you will never see them anywhere else in the store. I believe there may be a small transporter unit, but I'm not interested enough to investigate. Back to the story.</aside>
That's when Creepy Camo Guy entered my view. He appeared to be in his early 20s. 90s slacker goatee in place. His baseball cap was olive camo. His shirt was olive camo. His pants were olive camo. His shoes were olive camo with black suede trim. He had a cell phone, but I could not see if it were olive camo, as he had it firmly gripped in his meaty, cellar-toned hand. His skin had that general look of living out of the sun's rays, in a small, back bedroom with dark drapes, or in a basement fixed up as a game room, where he spends his time playing XBOX 360 Live. Actually, he looks like he tried to play XBOX 360 Live, but probably gets his ass kicked regularly, so he plays by himself.
The woman he was with I assumed was his mother. She had the look of having been rode hard and put away wet for about 25 years. Of course, the thought I had later that she might not be his mother left me feeling sick and cringing, and yet hopeful that in this way he will never have children. If you've ever seen those pictures of women in their 30s taken during the Great Depression in the U.S., you have some idea of this woman.
The icing on this cake of ick: Three of the seven pieces of fabric they were getting were olive camo.
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