When I was a small girl there were what I called classy department stores. One department store that I recall was Sears, Roebuck, and Company. I used to love to go to this department store because of its respectful ambiance. I never recalled children screaming or crying in the background or the loud chatter. I am not sure even till today, if that respect was demanded by the parents, or the expectations of the soft background noise piped into the elegance and glitter of the expensive show cases or the soft padded carpeting surrounding racks of clothing. I know my mother advised us as children to remain near her and talk with our soft voices. When you walked into the store you were met with a clean, shiny case of chocolate candies we could only look at, the coolness of air condition, soft elevator music, and the occasional ding, ding, ding, calling an associate to pick up department phone for instructions I’m sure.
In my teenage years, the world seemed to lose this elegant ambiance by replacing it with warehouses for shopping; for instance, we had a new style of department store that had all departments under one roof, groceries, clothes, house goods, gardening, and hardware and no more shiny cases or soft carpeting, not even the elevator music. The soft ding, ding, ding, was now replaced with the gruff voice on the store intercom, attempting to scream over the child throwing a tantrum, “ATTENTION SHOPPERS! WE HAVE A LOST CHILD AT THE CUSTOMER SERVICE DESK, COME GET THEM NOW!” while the child continued screaming in the background. Or the intercom would crackle with the giggles of an associate, “ATTENTION SHOPPERS, THERE IS A SALE OF PANTIES FOR ONLY TEN CENTS IN THE MIDDLE AISLE, HURRY AS THESE WILL DISAPPEAR QUICKLY!” Children would be left stranded where they stood, as women rushed to middle aisle tearing through piles of panties looking for the one just the right size. Or the occasional noisy interruption of the intercom with a rushed, raw, crude sounds, ” CLEAN-UP ON AISLE 10, NOW.”
Now all of this to tell you exactly how my mind works. Every morning, I drive the back roads to go to work. These back roads have cow pastures, farms, and wooded areas that come very near the road with a ditch between the road and trees. So, each morning I drive by a new animal carcass is laying on the road; either raccoon, cat, skunk, and a lot of opossums, that was hit during the night or early morning. So the next few mornings I would see what I call the ‘clean-up crew’, that consists of crows, turkey buzzards, or occasionally the abandoned dog looking for a quick meal.
I have in my head (my imagination) that the turkey buzzards have a local union or a reception area, where there are buzzards waiting around for a signal like bees that do the honey bee dance, but the buzzards have an intercom like the warehouse stores. The intercom screams, “attention buzzards clean up on aisle 111, rush quickly before crows get word of the nice deer carcass on the side of highway 111 intersecting CR 50. The meat is ripened to a tender consistency of only one layer of maggots, and the rotting juices are still sweet, but remember there is enough of this delicacy to feed everyone, so be kind to your fellow buzzard. Buzzard number 22 , you oversee keeping the greedy crows away, as they will be allowed only after we are finished and not a minute before.” At that point one old turkey buzzard turns to another younger buzzard, and he says it sounds like that deer is not tender enough for me, you go and enjoy my son, as I think I’ll wait for the tender, spicy delicacy of a week old skunk that has at least three tire tracks because I cannot tear flesh as I could use to years ago.
**If you ever wondered now you know how I think, scary isn’t it, lol, and it will only get worse with the more time I spend at the house waiting for toilet tissue. Enjoy your day. If you endured this…thanks for reading. **
Mary 4/4/20Recommend0 recommendationsPublished in