Wednesday, December 30, 2015

Tonight I was actually called "toots. "
No I wasn'I  chatting with a stuttering candy roll salesman.
I wasnt sitting at the counter at the local drug store a la Huntz Hall and Leo Gorcey circa 1936.
I wasnt talking about a train whistle blowing.
I wasnt talking about a 3 yr old farting.

My cashier of chice at Doris's Market is Joanne.  I'm sure she looks older than she really is (45 ish).  She is very friendly and seems generally pleased that I  usually give her a good heath report.  Her conversation is littered with cliches "I'm staying in on New Years Eve" I'd rather not brave the crowds."  That's code for" no one invited me to a fun party."

After ringing up my  arrabiata sauce, my final item, she said, "happy new year toots;!" meaning it as it was probably meant originally,  as a term of endearment.  The new year is already starting off well.

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