Monday, April 30, 2012

Carolina Girl

A warm North Carolina day awaited me when I finally stepped outside. I jumped in my car and headed out to buy the little George Foreman with the missing drip tray from the thrift shop called Jacob's Sales at the end of my road.

When I walked in, a gaggle of women were playing cards around the wooden checkout counter and talking louder than an industry-sized chicken coop full of laying hens.

I headed right to the back where I had found my little prize the day before and carried it businesslike to the front, already pulling the five dollars cash from my purse.

"Hey, girl! You found it. I hid that thing, and you found it."

One of the women started slapping me in the arm. She already had a George Foreman at home I found out but hid this one in the store so she could have a second one? I don't know. But she acted like I was her best friend even though she had never met me before, and everyone in the circle gave me advice on how to clean my grill and what to cook on it.

I walked out and soaked in the heat of the day, feeling like a true Carolina girl.


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