The Beautiful Kind

The other day I was shopping in a thrift store once again in a futile attempt to find jeans that fit my (apparently) grossly misshapen body. Since I came up empty handed and had already organized the children’s book section for them (I looove straightening books) I spent the remainder of my time there stalking two cute couples:

1. One couple was New England white trash. They were very smoked out with leathery skin, and probably looked much older than they actually were. The man wore a safety orange t-shirt, jeans, and work boots and had hair that looked like a rat’s nest. The woman was tiny and coarse and had a masculine face. From the way they interacted with the staff, it was clear that once a week they came to Goodwill in order to find slutty clothes for her to wear, and part of the foreplay was trying them on.

She would hang out in the dressing room and he would fetch her the shortest shorts possible, like from the kid’s department. She tried them on and they giggled and growled, and at one point, while modeling size two flowered denim shorts with ruffles that barely covered her non-existent ass, she said, “What do you think?”

I didn’t hear him say anything, but I heard her say, “Oh, I KNOW that look - you’re HUNGRY. Let’s get you home and fed.”

2. The other couple was younger, with developmental delays. She was tall and shaped like a triangle, and he was compact and led the way through the aisles. They were smarter than the average person in one regard in that they both liked to read. They browsed a revolving rack of mass market paperbacks, and I heard him say, “I’m looking for the best kind of books.”

“Mysteries?” she asked.

“No, ACTION BOOKS,” he said excitedly.

As the book rack turned and squeaked, he asked her off handedly, “Do you like your books to have a lot of love in them?”