Years ago I was working with my friend Emily down at Scrapbooks, Etc. when I noticed this key chain she had. When I say noticed, I mean that I drooled and screamed and ran around the store cursing that I didn't have an "E" name. I HAD TO HAVE ONE. but, being the lazy (oh I want to say ass here) person that I am, pretty much knew I wouldn't go to the little store where she bought hers. Emily, being the super cool chic that she is, offered to pick one up next time she was down there. score!
Months and months go by and I'd long since forgotten about my cute little "m". But Emily hadn't. when I finally hooked up with here again, she had the m, but the story of finding it wasn't a pretty one. She told me that she went right down to the store like the next day and there were no m's. then she tried a couple other places, no luck. She tried and tried and tried to find me an m. I kinda felt bad (kinda???) cuz really, my little slobber session over her key chain much have really made an impact on her. While she would never say it, I'm sure she was afraid for her life if she didn't find this m for me. silly girl. But she persevered and found one for me - and I LOVE IT!!
love love love my m key chain.
It lives on my rear view mirror. Peter absolutely hates it there, saying it's so very white trash. Yeah well you married this white trash hooker pal. so there! The M is saying bucko!
and that started my collection of m's.
they are nothing special, just little random, cheapo m's that I pick up anytime I see one. Lately, though, I've gotten a tad out of control. Or maybe not. You tell me.
It's common knowledge that Mervyns isn't doing well (are they actually bankrupt now?) and when the one by my work said it was closing no one was surprised. One morning I was driving out to a meeting, like I often have to, and saw these sign guys taking down the building mounted mervyns sign. I swerve across 3 lanes to make the left into the parking lot. Imagine the Saturday morning garage sale shoppers turning wildly as they see the teeny neon orange sign at the base of the corner telephone pole. That was me.
so I pull in and flag the dude down. This is how that conversation went.
Me: hey! what are you guys going to do with that sign?
Dude: throw it away.
Me: really? well if you are, can I have the m?
Me: if. you. are. throwing. it. away. can. I. have. the. m.?
Dude: I dunno, I'll have to call my boss. How much you wanna pay?
Me: yeah! you're throwing them away anyway, right?
Dude: yeah, I guess.
Me: yeah, so can I have it then?
He had to call, but there was no answer so I left my name and number and asked if he would call me back. I left sure that I would never hear from him and felt like a dork for having asked. I could only imagine what he said to his buddies about the crazy, fat, white chick driving a mini-van who wanted this gigantic, bright blue letter m from an old Mervyn's store.
But luck was on my side (dumb luck as peter would put it) and the dude called me at the end of the day. His boss was cool with it and I could come pick it up. We made arrangements for that to happen and now I am the proud owner of a 4 foot wide by 2 foot high plastic, lower case m. and I love it almost as much as my little metal key chain m. It doesn't have a permanent home yet, it's just leaning against the wall on top of the bookcase in my scrapbook room. If only I could have it hanging from the rear view mirror. Now that would be white trash!