It'll probably come as no suprise that I'm a bit of a people watcher. I love looking at other people. Sometimes I'm looking at what they're wearing - how they've put an outfit together, what they're attemtping to say about themselves visually. Which in itself is endlessly fascinating. But mainly I just like watching what other people are up to.
Yesterday while buying my usual soup n' roll lunch at the local supermarket I was intruiged by a pretty young lady at the checkout. She was about 5'6"; two long, brown braids, unmade face. Small-ish sized, she wore a black double breasted pincess coat, black leggings, white scarf and ankle length turnover uggs. I guess her age at about 21 at the most. Student, then.
Inside her shopping basket (yes, I snoop in other people's shopping baskets too. Sue. Me.) she had a half pint of skimmed milk, half-litre of Vodka, carton of orange juice and a value can of hairspray. That's all. And that's what intruiged me. That the items were so incongruous.
- The Vodka and orange juice - for making screwdrivers maybe? But then, why such a small bottle?
- The Milk - we've all run out of milk at a crucial milk-needing time and had to go get some more, but then what's with the Vodka?
- And the value hair spray - I just couldn't figure it out.
So, of course, I made up a little story in which all these items might come into play:
Lizbeth the student gets home with her afternoon shopping, opens the milk and pours some in her waiting bowl full of cornflakes. She reads a book while she eats her flakes and thinks about what she will wear for tonight's party. Her hair is feeling a little icky, so she's put it two long, lank braids but she'll have to wash it before she goes out again.
Several hours of day-dreaming/wardrobe planning later, she goes to wash her hair. She puts the damp hair in curlers and takes a nap. A couple of hours later, she wakes from her nap, takes out her curlers, carefully styles her hair and sets it with a few spritzes of hair spray.
She gets dressed, then pulls out a large empty bottle of vodka from under the bed and decants the half litre of cheap Vodka she bought that afternoon into the bottle. She tops it up with the orange juice, screws the lid on and gives it a good shake. She opens the bottle and takes a swig.
She pops her dainty little feet into some pretty heels. She glances over at the ugg ankle boots discarded and forlorn in the corner and remembers their easy, snuggly warmth. Then she looks down at her feet and knows that they look much better in her pretty heels.
She shrugs, takes another swig from the bottle, opens the door to her tiny little flat and leaves. The end.
Funny how these little things can affect you, isn't it?