Recently the Mr. and I moseyed over to the most stuffed-to-the-gills lighting shop we know, because we are in need of some kind of pendant lights to put over our new kitchen’s new kitchen table. We figured that this shop has everything, maybe we could find the modest Arts and Crafts style lamp of our dreams among the forest of shimmering prisms. We were going to have to move fast, because being in that place a. makes me feel as if I’m going to have an epileptic fit if I’m there for more than 10 minutes, and b. one time we were there for like TWENTY MINUTES because our saleslady went on a break. Like everyone in that store, she was Russian, and I clenched a counter trying not to bolt out the store while I heard her talking quite volubly about chicken patties. Yes, chicken patties! Not only chicken patties, but “Cheegen batties.” “Is very simple. You take cheegen batties and . . .” (mumble mumble). I didn’t even KNOW what she did with the chicken patties, and I never found out. There’s something very, very unjust about that. So to say I harbor a deep well of resentment and bitterness against this store is to put it very mildly. However, I cannot deny that they have a lot of chandeliers. And now, I have my (sp)Iphone so I can document the tribulations I endure in the name of renovation.
Okay, folks, are you ready for part 1? Take a deep breath and come on in.
Writing Prompt: Seriously. Is there anything more classy than a chandelier?