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Personal blog of christian
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(No Title)"One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine…" I counted the hardback books carefully, aloud, for the sake of the reluctant, suspicious homeowner and her 40-year-old daughter, the sponsors of a garage sale they were beginning to regret. The elderly woman regretted she'd been in the house when the daughter quoted me a price of 50 cents per book. The daughter regretted the day she was born. "Mother, you didn't have the books priced," the daughter hissed, while I was still perusing the stacks, "so I told the lady 50 cents…" The daughter's attempt at self-defense was feeble enough to make her wish she'd gone to law school when she had the chance. "50 cents? What were you thinking? Most of those still have the original price tags on them! Most of them have never been read!" So I finished shopping, took my books to the table, and started counting. I've never counted to ten to try to calm my anger, or counted to ten to deter my children from leading lives of crime. But how I hoped counting to ten would diffuse the time bomb in that garage! No sooner did I hand over a five-dollar bill than my elder blurted out, "Well, young lady, I hope you know you're getting a real bargain." It was the lecture I deserved, the one I'd been waiting for, delivered with a full measure of alacrity. It hit its mark. "Would you like to buy the books back?" She shook her head slowly, and then turned to shoot daggers at her poor, hapless daughter. As I walked away, I swear I heard two women, grinding their teeth, counting to ten.
Posted by Katy on 05/04/01 at 09:48 PM
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