Phoenix is a hotbed for snowbirds. Literally. Vast swathes of one-level double-wides in huge gated and walled ‘winter’ communities made up almost entirely of northern-state ‘Mericans and Canadians, they are populated 80% by people with grey or dyed blue/orange hair. The other 20% are bald. They play cards. They gather in clubhouses. Some of the more spry ‘generians’ play golf. But they all shop. And shop. And shop some more.
Sal is OK with that. Me? Not so much. Yesterday we went to a crap-and-junk mart packed with people. Today, we went to a craft and fabrics store in a mall as big as Central Park. After a painful twenty minutes spent looking at Styrofoam shapes, glue and sparkles, I found her and said, “So, sweetie? You find what you were looking for?”
“Oh, I wasn’t looking for anything in particular. Just looking, you know?”
“Oh. Well, then…..have you seen it all?”
“No, only about half but I think we have to leave.”
Feigning reluctance and disappointment, I said, “Oh, really? Shouldn’t you see it all….now that we are here, I mean? Great sparkles and Styrofoam shapes over there…..”
“No. It’s too much. I have to come back better prepared. We’ll need to have a truck. I am going to be hours. It’s gonna be big.”
“Unh, we do have a truck……”
“No. I am gonna need days. Multiple trips. The fabrics are soooooooo cheap, so cheap. I can see quilts in my head. We are gonna need a lot of time….”
……………I am losing her……..