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February 20, 2005

It's a toy shop. Y'know? For toys.

While breakfasting this morning I wore my "Toys in Babeland-Seattle" shirt that I had purchased while visiting Seattle over the holidays. Most people have no idea what the shirt means, they assume it's a band or a perfectly average sort of store. I don't correct their assumptions. If someone is in the know I usually get a wink and a smirk. This system has worked perfectly well for me thus far.

Until today.

At lunch with my soon-to-be-remarried in-laws, Frinklin's dad looked at my shirt and said, "So, you went to 'Toys in Babeland' while in Seattle, huh?"

"I did." I said, beginning to turn beet red and Frinklin began to gasp for air.

"So, what did you think? Did you know what it was?" asked my father-in-law.

"Oh yes. I knew it was there. We sought it out."

Frinklin's dad laughed and smiled that knowing smile. I thought we were home-free until my Frinklin's mom demanded to know what we were laughing at.

Frinklin's dad tried to explain, "It's a toy shop. Y'know? For toys." Thank God she picked up on the emphasis and figured it out before any further explaination was needed, although Frinklin's dad wasn't about to let me off that easy.

"Those ladies there run a fine shop. It's very tasteful."

My prayers were answered a moment later when the waiter appeared to take our order. The subject turned to omletts and my face returned to it's normal color.

I kept wondering later which was weirder, the fact that he called me on my shirt, or the fact that he knew all about it and had obviously been there? Frinklin told me sweetly to please never, ever mention the conversation again, and to never, ever wear the shirt around his parents again.

Posted by Ensie at February 20, 2005 09:19 PM

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Posted by: Dawn (webmiztris) at February 23, 2005 08:13 PM

Posted by: free download at April 19, 2010 03:10 AM

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