Raking in the bargains...

I lamented parking at the opposite end of the mall immediately after I had purchased the rake. I hoisted it over my shoulder, hooked it on a couple of racks of socks as I tried to maneuver Sears' customers and cluttered aisles, but otherwise made my way without incident into the mall. Yea, me. While I was thankful I'd tucked my bags filled with more typical mall purchases into the van earlier, I realized I made quite a spectacle sans makeup with my still-damp hair, wearing aerobics shoes and workout clothes, hefting a bag of Craftsman tools in one hand and the rake in the other.

It was not my finer moment, and, of course, I saw someone I knew. Worse, he saw me. I smiled, sheepishly acknowledged the rake on my shoulder, to which he said something like, "Well, maybe it's something you can blog about."

Stunned. That was a good word. How did he know? He knew I blogged? This was my children's soccer coach from years gone by and a parent of a student at my school. Oh, and a friend on Facebook, where I always post a link to my blog. You never know who's really reading.

<Jon, this blog post is for you.>

Ten selfies, just me and the rake, and not a single one worthy.... How do teens (and President Obama, for that matter) make themselves look so attractive in their selfies?
Ten selfies, just me and the rake, and not a single one worthy.... How do teens (and President Obama, for that matter) make themselves look so attractive in their selfies?

 

Of course, I felt rather self conscious and conspicuous carrying a rake through the mall and then through another department store. I had to be careful I didn't hook or hit anyone, but I also tried to look cool. Like "I am so cool I can walk through the mall bearing a rake" sort of cool. (Is there such a thing?) Men chasing their children, as their wives shopped for girly items, beamed at me. Women looked a bit sympathetic or downright incredulous. I remained cool. Nonchalant. Like "I'm raking in the bargains, people, and I needed the right tool to do so..."

And because Jon had mentioned "blog," my mind was going a million miles a minute. What to write? What to write about a rake in the mall? How can I shoot a selfie of myself carrying the rake and this other bag in the mall when my hands were full? Dare I ask that person to shoot a photo of me? Maybe I could shoot a photo of myself with the mall in the background once I get in the parking lot?

No. Miss Feeling Awkward Carrying a Rake Through the Mall Though She Looked So Cool was not about to be Miss Feeling Crazy and Awkward Shooting a Photo of Herself While Carrying a Rake Through the Mall Though She Looked So Cool. (Because, honestly, I didn't feel so cool -- just in case you happened to see me.) Hence, no mall photo -- unless you count the selfie I attempted in the car. With the rake in the background. Several times. And then in my back yard, first Wilson style from "Home Improvement," then, simply, jail cell. A couple crazed looks. A few smiles. Even a "Letting My Hair Down" photo or two.

I am crazy and awkward.

The good news is, the rake came with a lifetime guarantee... so I can return to the mall with a broken rake and get a replacement...

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