Reds, greens, some yellows, although yellow wasn’t the best seller. Pastels always worked best unless it was the holiday season. Reds and Greens, dark ones, ran roughshod over the rest as if other colors were a children’s zoo being invaded by rogue circus elephants.
Mindy loved the circus. Not the actual circus, her circus life where performances came nightly, mental cars crammed with ass-clowns. The “come one, come all” attitude made it good enough reason as any to work here. There was no carousal, but the taffy wheel and its varied color combinations made an acceptable substitute. The woman of the house, Hannah, “a palindrome of fun” as her husband was sarcastically fond of calling her, had a fixation on horses. She called her collection a hobby, but Mindy guessed that’s exactly what one of those old women, when caught with 47 cats in her house, called her kitty corps.
A collection. The store hadn’t been exactly overrun with business, so a few months ago after the Easter semi-rush, Mindy counted. 238 various horse knick-knacks from the faux stained glass three-inch miniature stuck on the side window by the register in the back to the full-size white carousel horse sporting a golden mane, deep blue saddle with magenta highlights and still draped in chiffon pink, yellow and white signaling the resurrection of Jesus and arrival of more Cadbury cream-filled eggs.
photo by daniel agee. all rights reserved.
238 was now 247. Nine more had been added since post-Easter, including a 16” high frothing ceramic black stallion dubbed El Caballo Diablo by Mindy. He was rearing up, mane asunder, front hooves flying with a discernable, yet sheathed horse penis. Whenever she wanted less customers in the store on a Saturday, she’d put him in the front window, always remembering to put it back behind her head at the counter before Hannah made her early afternoon call. Last week’s call was close. El Caballo Diablo was still wobbling when she burst into the store. Thankfully, Hannah remained clueless to El Caballo Diablo’s movements, bitching with a consistent pitch.
Afternoon, Mindy.
Hi Hannah.
The day’s sales are…?
Hannah peeked over her Walgreen’s sunglasses at Mindy as if it was her fault mid-September was wracked with a heat wave ninety-plus for three solid days. Read the rest of this page »
