Pardon Me…

On a rainy Wednesday I was making the rounds of antique stores in the area. I had been looking at a vintage Red Wing sponge-ware bowl.

Turning around, I was confronted by a beautiful young woman in a low-cut dress. In a split-second these thoughts raced through my mind:

She’s in my personal space! How had I missed seeing her when I came into the antique store? She looks sad, as if she had been stood up on a dinner date. Young women are not in the habit of approaching me; a situation I would have found stimulating 20 years ago is now unsettling. I was ready to say ‘Pardon Me’ or as the Blues Brothers once sang in fractured French: ‘Excusez Moi, Mon Cherie’

And then it dawned on me.

She was a mannequin, a dummy.

I was a dummy too.

Perhaps it is time for an eye exam.