I was at Anthropologie with Mom yesterday. I wandered around and checked-out all their grossly over-priced but fun stuff and took in the generally lovely ambiance of the place before heading out the door to find a bench to wait for Mom to finish her shopping. I was hesitant at Anthropologie when I was making money, and now that I am being frugal, it's barely fun to wander there. Shopping is kinda like going to a museum for me now. And I'm not much of a museum person.
As I was leaving though, there were a few fourteen-year-oldish girls gathered around a display which included a typewriter. This wasn't the kind of antique typewriter that someone my age would look at and appreciate for it's beauty. It was just kind of old. Like, the '80s maybe. The girls looked at it as though they were witnessing history. An artifact. One of them drummed a key with her index finger and let her hand retract back to her with a titter. "I think my parents have one of these!" One of them claimed.
I have no words.
1 comment:
hysterical
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