A small room behind a bay window. A single bed, a table and chair, and a sink. I could manage something larger, with more conveniences, but I could never match the view.
Time to re-paint.
A couple months ago I was told of a retailer who could match any chip of pant to its catalogue number. Curious to see such a machine, I took in my chip, gave it to the salesperson, and he said he would be right back.
"Can I watch?" I asked.
The salesperson looked uncomfortable. "Well, sure, I guess."
Into the back we went.
At a small desk beside the rear exit sat a young woman. She was playing computer solitaire. To her left was a steaming bowl of Lipton's Chicken Noodle Soup. The salesperson handed her the chip; she took it, glanced at it, handed it back. "f4f3ef."
"Same sheen?" the salesperson asked. "Eggshell?"