And the beat goes on

24 swings, and 22 strikes, at the cages.  Next time it's slow pitch softball...

As if the charge I racked up last week at Big-O for a set of tires wasn't enough, I had to make a return trip today for an alignment.  For almost 2 hours I paced and sat and stood among stacks of expensive rubber, applied and reapplied hand sanitizer and watched the incoming crowd with similar tire troubles.  A young kid needed a flat repaired, just as I did last summer, but 15 bucks later, his fix wasn't as free as mine had been.  Oh, the perks of being a female in a greasy tire shop.  One woman claimed struts cost less in Georgia and was planning to drive across the country to get them, dangit.  An old man had animals on his suspenders and a biker woman was tardy to her appointment because she had to "put on her face."  A few guys even dared to twist the candy machine for a handful of Skittles.  Unfortunately, my Purell wipes were in my car.  I even eavesdropped on a phone conversation,"Let's get Chinese for dinner tonight.  Okay. Okay."  Click.  No hello, no goodbye, and not even a hint of love.  Signs you've been married for over 40 years...  

And then to get in touch with my feminine side, I shopped at Target for mascara and egg whites and treated (okay, not really a treat when I do it every month) myself to a mani and pedi.  There were a handful of eager workers waiting for the next set of fingers and toes, so imagine my disbelief when I was greeted by the same woman who, on my last visit, gave me the worst damn pedicure known to (wo)man.  This time I vowed to speak up at the first hint of shoddy work.  I kept my cool.  Two minutes later she was called to handle a late appointment and politely excused herself.  Whew!  Someone else would take over!  God so wanted me to have pretty toes!  After my soak and scrub I looked down to see all ten toes turning black (it looked brown in the bottle!) so I felt a bit silly when I requested a French instead.  Oops.  

This weekend is Doors Open: Denver, an annual event for public peeks into historic buildings across the city.  Lisa, Dave and I made a few stops, one of them at the Scottish Rite Masonic Center; I'm still a bit unclear at the purpose of this men's club, but it does involve a costume collection worth nearly 3 million dollars (that got my attention).  So naturally, one of the men was dressed in a kilt, and as I was admiring his pretty knit knee high socks, I got a view of, shall we say, his Britney.  I appreciate a man in a kilt, but you still gotta do it like a lady...

Pretty in pink