Until that actually happens, I think I'll stick to the voyeuristic nature of how I like to write about people. Plus: this allows me to use the word 'voyeuristic' which both looks and sounds beautiful. It tastes like sweet chocolates or a soft pear.
(Side note: wouldn't it be great if your ringtone could be someone gently saying your favorites words out loud in a vaguely sexual manner? I'd buy that shit.)
|Good ol' what's her name|
This is CherylBeth. And that may or not be her name.
I've visited the Butler Square too many times for work. Desiree, our publicity and marketing director, works from a remote location in Tennessee so I end up with a lot of her mailing needs for various reviewers, vendors, etc. Luckily, the post office I visit is almost entirely accessible via the Skyway, and is a longer walk than traversing the outdoors. Better exercise in the winter and less time consuming in the summer: the best of both worlds. Just like Hannah Montana.
Inside the Butler Square post office works a lovely lady. The wisps of gray-blonde hair that litter her head seem to indicate that she was the very first member of the ombre bandwagon. Usually, she wears amazing turquoise rings--anywhere from three to four pieces per hand--but were sadly absent today when I not-so-subtly snapped the above photo.
One day, she told me her name was Cheryl. At least, that's what I thought she said. So, for weeks, I met her with a happy, "Hi, Cheryl," because I wasn't quite positive she'd said that was her name. But no matter how inaudibly I whispered the second part of my greeting, she always said hello and asked how my week was going, told me to stay warm, asked what I was up to, etc. Her joviality convinced me I was correct and slowly I started to speak her name with a little more gusto.
And then, because of course something would go wrong, I waltz into the post office one day and just as I am about to say her name, I notice that her sweater is monogrammed with the name: Beth.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
'Hello, Cheryl!" came out a lot like "Hello, Che...rr....lll...BETH?!?!?!"
And Cheryl (slash) Beth didn't miss a beat.
Oh, CherylBeth. You crafty little cat.