Finding Comfort in Gals from the Street

I am feeling sorry for myself about lack of sales again, so it's time to revisit two  favorite regulars at my store, Sue and Debbie.

Sue, who is slightly autistic and works at the public library down the street, since first buying a fabulous Mexican ring and repairing it, has come in and bought more jewelry. Most of the time she puts it on lay-away and pays within a month.
Her more recent purchases are another Taxco Mexican silver ring and a fabulous pendant of 8 carat gold with a chrysoprase center on a 14K chain. This last purchase was her most expensive as it cost her $60, although I had a price tag of $98. She fell in love with the stone and the fact that I told her about how my appraiser informed me it was a European piece. I know that I sold it for less than scrap value, but I also know that she will never scrap it and will appreciate it as much as I have all these years.

We talk about things most "normal" people don't ever care to discuss or even think about. Subjects range from the lost art of jewelry making to a retail market flooded with cheap Chinese goods to what we find unique and interesting on our picking journeys.
Now that the weather has turned, she sports a baseball cap on her big old head and she squints out of coke bottle glasses as well as carries a walking stick, which she has declared serves a dual purpose as she walks the meaner streets in the heart of the city.

Debbie is also a regular who comes in the first of every month while she still has her disability check intact. Debbie loves all that sparkles and to her, any type of crystal is a diamond. She has a little poodle mix named Victor, which she dresses in various attire. I'll never understand why she puts onesies on the poor dog. I'm sure he's piddled through many of them.

In addition, Debbie loves furs and on any given chilly day she will come in full "diamond" and fur attire. The sparkly necklaces start at the top of her neck and end just below the knees. The furs form mounds around her head and neck.

Debbie is very Catholic and when she sees something she wants, she tells me she will pray about acquiring it later at a lower price. She is a vet from Desert Storm who suffers from PTSD. I've never asked the particulars, but when I look at her eye liner drooping around the sweat below her eyes and her large hands shaking with all those "diamonds" on them, I can only imagine.

She writes the Pentagon often and would like to see Barack impeached. She also takes notes which she will eventually give to the CIA. She has an eye on all the suspicious activities going on in our town.

And these are some of the gals I roll with on a daily basis. And when I start to feel really desperate, I find comfort in thinking about them. In the words of the great Simon (Lord of the Flies) "what else is there to do?"


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