Mar 8, 2011

A Used Wire Whisk

We walked around a cramped resale shop for about half an hour. All the proceeds go to a no-kill shelter and I did notice a few kittens roaming around. I could tell that they felt right at home and couldn't shake the notion that this resale shop was "starring" these kittens today. It made sense in my head at the time. 

They were cute, too. All mewing and found sleeping in displays of Easter baskets or beneath the hoods of old Hi-Fi consoles. It was hard to resist the pull of the kittens. This is why Tom is the one who goes to this shop and not me, normally. It was Tom, in fact, who had gotten our coffee maker there last summer. A really old, very office-y coffee maker that reminds me of a station wagon for some reason. 

This time around, however, with me in tow, we found only a wire whisk. And it's ironic because our wire whisk had actually broken down very recently. It was the last thing in the world I expected to happen. I mean, how many wire whisks does a person go though in a life time? It turns out that if it rusts, at least one. 

Still, I put it back. Back in the bin with hundreds of cantaloupe scoops that nobody ever wanted. Then we stopped at the little grocery store down the street. I looked and looked but couldn't find any sliced turkey in the refrigerated section. So we had them slice some turkey for us at the deli counter, instead. 

And there you have it.