"Age"
Oh, just this one thing that is nice instead of getting sad. At work these two ladies came in, one around 50 and the other older by a bit. They were really good friends, one was bringing the other in to have a photo framed for her as a present for something or another. And one of the ladies brought her mother along, she must have been 80 judging by the heavy application of perfume coupled with the consummate coiffure - old ladies always go to the salon weekly and thus have such tightly compacted curls. The grandmotherly diptych. Anyhow, the mother sat down and the two ladies went to work trying to figure out what mats and frames they liked. The mom asks me if I am going to get to work and start giving the two ladies suggestions, and I don't like being pushy so I say "Oh they look like they have it under control" and the mom says "Ha! You know when to be diplomatic. You know when to keep your mouth shut".
It was true too, each and every suggestion I made was shot at with a tactless look, just a look, but tactless nonetheless. And the mom kept mocking their "I don't like it" so the two ladies would shoot her a look and the mom would turn back at me and cover her mouth and start laughing. Or pretend to zip up her mouth. Or a few times she would shape her mouth into a roundish oval and pop her hand up to it so it makes a little noise. It was so funny.
Then she asked me what these bean bag things were for, and I explained that people have posters that are rolled up and they are weighted so the poster's corners can be held down to keep the thing flat. She liked them, and even picked one up and said, "Oh really. I thought they were to throw at ladies like me with bad suggestions." You could tell since she turned 70 or so her daughter started treating her like a feeble and useless person, like an elderly person that is senile and has no idea how to function, you know, but instead she was strong and perfectly fine but only played the part as an "old lady." It must be a tricky situation to be an old mother who is treated like an elderly little child by her own now-aging daughter; the role reversal is the stuff of magic mirrors. Three ages of women wrapped in a single moment.
You could tell she was good at having fun, though, you could really tell.
She kept saying "I like the brown matting, but Ooop! What do I know! Oop..." then she'd look at me and cover her mouth like a child.
Eventually she leaned over and across the table and said to just me: "Here, watch this, I will make them mad" then she says again out loud so both the women could hear her, "What are these beanbags for young man???" in a wonderful impersonation of exactly how a staunch and stuffy old lady should behave.
Then of course, the daughter says, "Oh mom, stop troubling the young man. He just told you."
The mother winked at me and started giggling and put her hand up to her mouth again, "Right, I will shut it up."
They picked out hideous colors for their frame and mat and would not allow me to intervene with a suggestion of a more muted tone to match the cooler colors within the picture. They did not care to use wood instead of a metal frame, it was too costly despite the fact that it mimicked in material and texture the themes of the picture, as well. People choose the cheapest almost every time.
The mother simulated throwing a beanbag at herself and said "Ah, so that's what these are for: People that suggest things!"
I bent down and picked one up from the floor and she laughed: "Oh! I didn't do that! I wasn't trying to take one from your shop. Wasn't me, nope nope nope." And laughed and laughed and laughed. I joined in and laughed with her.
After paying with a personal check, knocking over the cup that holds the pens, and forgetting to say Thank you for all of your help to me, the ladies left and all the while the mother kept turning around to wave her hand at me.
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10th August 2002
It was true too, each and every suggestion I made was shot at with a tactless look, just a look, but tactless nonetheless. And the mom kept mocking their "I don't like it" so the two ladies would shoot her a look and the mom would turn back at me and cover her mouth and start laughing. Or pretend to zip up her mouth. Or a few times she would shape her mouth into a roundish oval and pop her hand up to it so it makes a little noise. It was so funny.
Then she asked me what these bean bag things were for, and I explained that people have posters that are rolled up and they are weighted so the poster's corners can be held down to keep the thing flat. She liked them, and even picked one up and said, "Oh really. I thought they were to throw at ladies like me with bad suggestions." You could tell since she turned 70 or so her daughter started treating her like a feeble and useless person, like an elderly person that is senile and has no idea how to function, you know, but instead she was strong and perfectly fine but only played the part as an "old lady." It must be a tricky situation to be an old mother who is treated like an elderly little child by her own now-aging daughter; the role reversal is the stuff of magic mirrors. Three ages of women wrapped in a single moment.
You could tell she was good at having fun, though, you could really tell.
She kept saying "I like the brown matting, but Ooop! What do I know! Oop..." then she'd look at me and cover her mouth like a child.
Eventually she leaned over and across the table and said to just me: "Here, watch this, I will make them mad" then she says again out loud so both the women could hear her, "What are these beanbags for young man???" in a wonderful impersonation of exactly how a staunch and stuffy old lady should behave.
Then of course, the daughter says, "Oh mom, stop troubling the young man. He just told you."
The mother winked at me and started giggling and put her hand up to her mouth again, "Right, I will shut it up."
They picked out hideous colors for their frame and mat and would not allow me to intervene with a suggestion of a more muted tone to match the cooler colors within the picture. They did not care to use wood instead of a metal frame, it was too costly despite the fact that it mimicked in material and texture the themes of the picture, as well. People choose the cheapest almost every time.
The mother simulated throwing a beanbag at herself and said "Ah, so that's what these are for: People that suggest things!"
I bent down and picked one up from the floor and she laughed: "Oh! I didn't do that! I wasn't trying to take one from your shop. Wasn't me, nope nope nope." And laughed and laughed and laughed. I joined in and laughed with her.
After paying with a personal check, knocking over the cup that holds the pens, and forgetting to say Thank you for all of your help to me, the ladies left and all the while the mother kept turning around to wave her hand at me.
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10th August 2002
Uses of Personal Experience in Fiction
Professor M Davison
Along with this story, I humbly submit the attached image of a painting by the bearded Gustav Klimt titled "The Three Ages of Women" which somehow got mixed up somewhere in the story. I realize that it is in poor form to submit a painting by someone else along with my story, especially for a class focused expressly on writing (and, more specifically, the "Uses of personal experience" in that writing) though now that the two are side by side I cannot for the life of me separate the one from the other - hence the paperclip instead of a staple. If you wish, please pull them apart and keep and grade whichever one you see fit.
Along with this story, I humbly submit the attached image of a painting by the bearded Gustav Klimt titled "The Three Ages of Women" which somehow got mixed up somewhere in the story. I realize that it is in poor form to submit a painting by someone else along with my story, especially for a class focused expressly on writing (and, more specifically, the "Uses of personal experience" in that writing) though now that the two are side by side I cannot for the life of me separate the one from the other - hence the paperclip instead of a staple. If you wish, please pull them apart and keep and grade whichever one you see fit.
Regards,
