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the last car ride you'll ever have
Dec. 1st, 2002 03:02 amWord has been given to me that the William has arrived in India. Not quite at his final destination, but still there. And apparently already having a good time.
I'm at turns sad/jealous/worried/jubiliant.
This afternoon, The Engineer and I were in a hobby shop as he was looking for paint. I was looking for model Hearses, as I am prone to doing when I am in an environment conducive to finding them.
This strange little man walks up, an employee, and inquires if I need any help. I tell him my wishes, that I wanted to know if they sold any model Hearses. He claims that they do and will show me the way to them! Oh, hurrah! What a joyous day! I had already scrounged a few Matchbox-type modified ones from their wall display, but I was looking for a /proper/ one.
He leads me down a twisty aisle and points to a rack display full of blister cards of some type of product. I lean around him and see...
...model HORSES.
You know, the kind which have four legs and whinney and eat hay? Yes, horses. Mister Ed and all that fun stuff. Carrot in the ass.
I begin to snicker, which turns into laughing. I can't even begin to suppress it, it's just such a ridiculous situation. I can understand if someone's accent is rather thick or odd that them saying "hearses" may sound like "horses" (though on I fear to hear the accent which this would turn out to be).
"No," says I. "I mean HEARSES. You know, like the funeral car?"
The little light dings on in his brainpan. He points down the aisle to a few model cars, which are of the Ghostbusters car variety. "We have those, which you could modify. But, that's about it."
This just will not do, I think to myself. And ask him about the wee model cars that people put into model towns for model trainsets. More lights blinking on and he leads me elsewhere. This time go round, a teeny Hearse is located.
I pay, still snickering to myself and now making neighing sounds at The Engineer (who tells me that the clerk looked as if he was going to explode any moment. Not because of me, but because he just looked like the psychotic type).
I'm at turns sad/jealous/worried/jubiliant.
This afternoon, The Engineer and I were in a hobby shop as he was looking for paint. I was looking for model Hearses, as I am prone to doing when I am in an environment conducive to finding them.
This strange little man walks up, an employee, and inquires if I need any help. I tell him my wishes, that I wanted to know if they sold any model Hearses. He claims that they do and will show me the way to them! Oh, hurrah! What a joyous day! I had already scrounged a few Matchbox-type modified ones from their wall display, but I was looking for a /proper/ one.
He leads me down a twisty aisle and points to a rack display full of blister cards of some type of product. I lean around him and see...
...model HORSES.
You know, the kind which have four legs and whinney and eat hay? Yes, horses. Mister Ed and all that fun stuff. Carrot in the ass.
I begin to snicker, which turns into laughing. I can't even begin to suppress it, it's just such a ridiculous situation. I can understand if someone's accent is rather thick or odd that them saying "hearses" may sound like "horses" (though on I fear to hear the accent which this would turn out to be).
"No," says I. "I mean HEARSES. You know, like the funeral car?"
The little light dings on in his brainpan. He points down the aisle to a few model cars, which are of the Ghostbusters car variety. "We have those, which you could modify. But, that's about it."
This just will not do, I think to myself. And ask him about the wee model cars that people put into model towns for model trainsets. More lights blinking on and he leads me elsewhere. This time go round, a teeny Hearse is located.
I pay, still snickering to myself and now making neighing sounds at The Engineer (who tells me that the clerk looked as if he was going to explode any moment. Not because of me, but because he just looked like the psychotic type).
