2004-08-08 @ 8:19 p.m.
Even though I was tired this morning, I decided that getting out of the house was meant to be and also it was a really nice day. As in cool with no humidity. YAY! Always a bonus in NY in August.
So I made my way down to the local flea market. Le Market O' Fleas. Fleas a Go-Go. Marquat de Fleas. I mean where else can you go and see a sign that says, "Lowest prices on earth and slightly cheaper on Mars"?
And of course I like bright, shiny objects with the word 1/2 OFF written on them. Although I really wish that somebody could have just handed me a hundred dollar bill before going today because I saw so many things I wanted, like that awesome lamb femur.
Yup, a Lamb femur. What's wrong with that? I knew as soon as I saw that big ol' bloodied lambie body part zip locked into an oversized baggie, that for the next ten minutes I was going to be going: "I want it. I want it", just because it's not something you normally get to see at Walmart. A Lamb femur. Go figure.
But then there was so much more at the Marquat de Fleas. Bamboo shoots growing out of baby booties. Samurai swords. Home made soaps. Bungee cords. 3.6 million baseball cards, even of players who only played once. Extremely realistic looking dolls who look like props from an old Twilight Zone episode where a doll kills its owner. 20 pound bags of kettle corn. Ray Conniff records. Lighters with naked girls on them. $1 lipsticks. The ever popular "I'm With Stupid" t-shirt (and why not include the companion t-shirt "I bought this "I'm With Stupid" T-Shirt and now I'm starting to Feel Mildly Fucked Up too").
I could also just go nuts with all the videos and DVDs available at flea markets. Most VHS tapes were $3. and DVDs were $5-8. But there was this one table...what good prices. Regular VHS movies like "When Harry Met Sally" were going for $2. But if it was a WAR movie, like somebody's femur was getting blown off....$3. Seems fair to me. I think the guy was also selling "Reelect Bush '04" bumperstickers too.
One booth over, there was a Paint-By-Numbers Jesus Painting resting on the ground against a table. It was completed of course. And it was so realistic...in a Jesus Paint-By-Numbers sort of way. Especially the eyes. And it was looking at me. I swear it was looking at me. Really.
I looked around for a moment. I thought that maybe it was that guy Jim, my first potential art class husband who I thought was gay but was actually married. He had mentioned possibly having a tryst with me in the coming days.
I felt a little foolish, because despite the beehive of flea market activity around me, there was no one there.
"Psst! Wittteee. Over here."
I turned around abruptly, like I used to do when I was a kid trying to get a glimpse of my guardian angel and then realized that the Jesus painting on the ground, looked slightly different from before. The eyes had a different expression.
Jesus Painting-By-Numbers: "I noticed you were looking at the Sexual Trivia Game over there, Witttee. Do you really think that is a good idea, looking at such a sinful thing?"
Me: Who me? I wasjust glancing at it. I was really looking at the Alien Autopsy Game. I was wondering if it would be like the game Operation, where you take magnetic body parts out with a pair of tweezers?"
Jesus Painting-By-Numbers: "I wasn't born yesterday, Wittteee. I created the Seven Deadly Sins. I know what you were looking at AND thinking. Isn't Married Guy getting home tonight?"
Me: How did you know that?
The Jesus Painting-By-Numbers Painting, for a freakish split second, rolls its heavenly eyes skyward.
Jesus Painting-By-Numbers: "Oh Wittteee, I know everything. I'm a Capricorn."
Me: Oh. So is Married Guy. He's born the day after you, you know.
Jesus Painting-By-Numbers: yeah, yeah, yeah, whatever. But you shouldn't be even thinking about sex. You are not well. And he is married. And it is not meant to be.
Me: Did "A" send you over to tell me that? He probably did since I didn't see him this week, and he didn't have a chance to pound that into my head for the 3000th time?
Jesus Painting-By-Numbers: Oh no Wittteee. I was just helping out a friend.
Me: Who's that?
Jesus Painting-By-Numbers: You. I just want you to start taking better care of yourself, and to start believing in yourself more, and to stop believing in all the bad shit your mother handed you...
Me: (gasp) Jesus, you said SHIT...
Jesus Painting-By-Numbers: Oh, no biggie. I actually created that word when I dropped Mt. Etna on my toe. It hurt like a bitch, but no matter. The important thing is you, Wittteee, you just have to power through these bad times you're having right now and kick some ass. And I have complete faith that you can do so.
Can I help you? Can I help you, miss?
And suddenly I was aware that there was this older man from the booth staring at me rather intently, wondering if I was going to buy something or if he was going to have to call security.
Me: No. I'm fine. Sorry.
After that the rest of the day was pretty mundane. I headed over to a discount fruit market and got a box of cookies. Didn't want to be without sugar today. And I also finally got the blinker in my car fixed. Its been burned out since I've had the car, so everytime I got to a corner I would always madly flick the directional to stimulate a working turn signal. What a dope, especially since all it took to fix it was a $3.58 bulb.
I even replaced it myself today. Opened the trunk, popped out the old bulb, screwed in the new one. Voila! Master mechanic. I think they may soon be calling me to join a NASCAR pit crew, now that they've heard of my expertise in lightbulb changing department.
Go, (cough) me! Thanks, Jesus.
Lyrics by Lennon/McCartney. All angst copyright by awittykitty