Thursday, March 25, 2010
The Colors of the Biblical Rainbow
She needed tan, white, and red. She'd already found the rest (using exactly which chapters and verses as her guide I do not know). While trying on bras, she confided to my co-worker that she and her husband (she referred to him thusly despite that their wedding had not yet occurred) were healers. "We take pain from good people and cast it into bad people." She was using a walker, she explained, because it was her turn to carry the pain (she and her husband alternate which of them carries the pain that day), and it was unbearable.
She then made a point of saying she was a personal friend of the N_______ family, owners of the department store, and that my co-workers shouldn't worry, because they'd "get theirs" when she died. She was, she said, a millionaire in her own right since her parents had died when she was a child.
As it turns out, she bought $600 worth of Biblical underwear, and we learned even more about her from the department next door.
She'd come in a few days ago to buy truffles to give her husband, because she wanted him to "carry the pain" that day and was trying to sweeten the deal. She informed the saleswoman that thus and such bigwig and that and such celebrity would be attending her upcoming nuptials. "Gee," said the saleswoman, "sounds like you'll have at least five or six hundred guests at your wedding. The woman corrected her: "Actually, there will be five thousand. Plus Hannah Montana, so I don't know how that's going to work out."
I almost forgot the best--and most romantic--part. This customer had met her husband twenty-five years earlier. Using her miraculous will, she told him (and I quote), "Disappear." He disappeared into thin air. When she was ready to will him into being again, she said, "Re-appear," and he did, in the house right next door to her own.
Isn't it a beautiful story? At least her credit is still good.