Thursday, July 1, 2010

"Do you want to see something beautiful?" asked the man in the hat behind the table of beautiful jewelry I could already see was all my style.

He held up the mirror then, as if to show me myself.

"Nice..." I said, blocking the mirror with my hand.

As usual, I was frustrated at the Montsweag Flea, arriving late subconsciously on purpose as to not frustrate myself further by seeing the best items, the ones cheap enough to buy but too big for my Subaru. Every year I threaten to buy or at least rent a truck to bring home all the goods and chattel I could easily collect at low cost, certainly far lower than in New York. And it is all my style, rusted and worn, perfect in its imperfection.

My new friend here, Mark, could help me. What he sold was small, could easily fit in my bag, even if I bought a lot of it. And, from the first, I could see he was a consummate salesman.

"Oh, that's very feminine," he said of one silver filigree bracelet. "That one," he said, pointing to a bicycle chain bracelet, "is a great balance between feminine and masculine, vulnerable but strong..."

I laughed. At $75, it could be the perfect balance, but it was out of my price range. I loved, though, how Mark was able to see me, to try, if only to sell me something I liked. It is a skill some possess, that of seeing, and he clearly had a knack. And I'm not saying that simply because he told me I had to have been a Queen in a former life.

I took mock offense. "But I am a Queen, my own mind," I said, laughing. The jewelry I bought from him, a necklace, an anklet, four bracelets, a ring and a silver diaper pin, will certainly make me feel royal, luckily, at a royal subject's price.

And that's why I gave Mark a gold star.

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