a peek inside the fishbowl

The crowd is murmuring. The rumour that two guest posters are appearing here this week is…true!

(There’s a commotion behind the velvet curtains.)

(Marla is thrust forward, and stands awkwardly, squinting into the spotlight, dust motes from the curtains in the air (because I like the word motes and the definition: a tiny piece of a substance. VAGUE!) and the microphone whines with feedback.)

“Is this thing ON…ON…ON” reverberates through the blogosphere.

There’s an expectant rustling in the audience.

“Um. Hi. I’m writing a guest post because Andrea thought it would be cool. Or something.”

(Marla winces, because the S’s are coming out all lispy and whistley over the mike.)

“So I’m dispensing with the quotes from here on – this is me talking now.”

(Someone unwraps a hard candy left over from the candy swap. The wrapper is the loudest thing I’ve ever heard.)

(I feel Dani’s eyes glinting at me through the velvet curtains, where she is waiting behind for her turn to guest-post here.)

I “met” Andrea through Dani’s comments and posts. We clicked. We both like a lot of, the same, well, oh, things, and when it came time for the WHOYC…whateverthingy, she “got” me. Since then, we send each other copious emails, sighing and oohing over stuff. I can’t wait to meet her some day – I live in Toronto, and so this could actually happen! Our worlds! Colliding!

In the meantime, I think about how she is the type of person who would love and appreciate the store I work in – but like me, be quite discerning about what would actually follow her home. We are both discriminating in our liking of stuff, even though what we like might seem weird. So, if she were just an ordinary customer, she’d come in and browse around, then we’d chat, because I’m chatty. (And because I don’t really “know” her, I wonder now – does she LIKE to chat in stores? Or does she like to browse quietly? Because I don’t know.)

So, since she asked me to think about a guest post, I thought about what she would actually buy if she came into the store. As I worked, I looked around and played a guessing game. Because as an only child, that’s what I’ve always done – make up games and contests for myself. Such as, if I could only have one thing from each page of the Sears catalogue (circa 1978), what would it be? If I could take off one thing I’m wearing and replace it with something else that would make my outfit more perfect, what would it be?

Today my job was to rearrange the front window and back “stage”. The store’s merchandise shifts around, daily, really, as some sells and more comes in. If a large piece of furniture sells, the twenty or more things on it have to find new homes. This is what I do on the three days I work there – pick something up, clean it, and put it back down somewhere else.

Here is the whole store, pretty much. It’s the size of my living room.

On Wednesday, I did this tabletop and these shelves:

And at the last minute, this arrangement of nice creams and green things, because some other things sold and I needed to fill the space:

I had fun doing this tabletop.

I call it, “Granny the Mel Douglas fan likes coffee, martinis and cookies. She’s our favourite.” Sometimes I do themes, that only I know about and feel sad when someone buys something from it that ruins it. Like, what fun is “I’m bored at the cottage so I’m reading a 1967 McCall’s magazine and actually thinking about hooking a rug.” once the perfect chair to do that in is gone? Sometimes, like the white tableaux above, I tell colour stories. Sometimes I just stick a bunch of things in a corner, and wait for more inspiration. See?

But I thought of Andrea as I did the window, how if she were to just walk by the store on her vacation, maybe the oilcloth tote bag idea would appeal to her and draw her in. She might smile at the Nancy Drew books, as I did when I saw them. She might even grab some for the girls. Heck, that’s some good wholesome reading right there – if you don’t want to get into why George is so tomboyish and all of those insinuations – or wonder how Nancy’s mother died, like I used to.

And as I set one of the last pieces in place, and fluffed the paper flowers that would also draw her in because they are so cheerful and unusual – I think I found what she would like best – what she might choose for herself; and what to me, says “Andrea”.

Can you find it in the picture below?

Hint: It goes with her new rug, dishes, her favourite scarf, and would look swell if she actually did this wallpaper.

What do you think it is?