Sometimes I surprise myself

It all happened very fast. And when I was riding home afterward, I was really quite surprised that it had actually happened at all.

It doesn’t take a lot – a stolen glance, an outright stare, blatant questions, a Vespa scooter and a credit card. And done. Well almost done. I’m expecting a phone call tomorrow.

One minute I was wandering the aisles of the Union Square supermarket with my sister for the sole purpose of continuing a conversation, the next I was Fitzroy bound, crunching numbers as I navigated wintry streets. Regretting ankle-skimming jeans in the icy Melbourne eve.

I know I’m impulsive. Encourageable. But the speed with which I pursued this was even new to me.

We were in the confectionery aisle when I saw her. She was wearing a silken, loose-fitting, black dress; sleeved to the elbow, cut below the knee in a soft drape. It was a delight already, but add an orange Peter Pan collar and you have perfection.

The words escaped my lips before I even knew what I was doing.

“Your dress is fabulous… it’s amazing… where did you get it? … Sorry did you say ‘bull’? … And there’s a sale on at the moment? Sorry where did you say ‘bull’ is? … Thank you.”

And I was off. In an outright flurry, my sister still selecting chocolate, and me? I was home-bound to collect my wallet, to gather my keys, but leave my head behind.

I was up the stairs, down the stairs, helmet clad and on Brunswick Road by 3.45pm, pushing the Búl door by 4.05pm.

The dress was there, sans collar – still very nice – but my size was not. A call was placed with the city store and I left, with a new woollen knit sitting pretty in a tasteful recycle-brown bag. Headed for the city. In a flurry. Riding against the clock.

By 4.35pm, with just 25 minutes to close, I landed in Búl for the second time that day, and within minutes was changing clothes and sighing pitifully in the mirror. Wrong size. Another required.

A call was placed with a Sydney store. I browsed and tried and left 15 minutes later, further bulk in my tasteful recycle brown bag. Homeward bound.

Still, I await a call from Sydney. Fingers-crossed they have my size.



Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: