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November 23, 2001
The last day of the 2001 Romantic Times Romance Writer's
Convention I was being a bad girl. Because, if you are in Orlando, you
must go shopping at Wal-Mart!
My friend, having earlier paid $13 to a taxi for
a ride there and back, had purchased a short leather skirt and thigh-top
stockings for a party. And she wanted to go home with more of same. Thigh-tops.
I had, on spotting a woman in mouse slippers, (and
unabashedly accosting her) discovered that she had got them at Wal-Mart.
That's two votes.
I also wanted rubber gloves, for CJ.
You see, the cover model had read my "Naked
in the Kitchen" story and had mentioned to Pepper that he wanted to
try this (cleaning the floor in the nude - attired only in rubber gloves.
In his case, he can skip the false eyelashes). So I wanted to get him
pink rubber gloves - like the ones Pepper sent to me.
Off we went.
I am soooo glad that I had rented the car. Go Hertz!
We drove, and drove, until we came to the curve in
the road where I had asked for directions to the hotel - Florida has these
tourist centers everywhere to help you navigate. Bless them!
Past that curve and down aways we find Wal-Mart.
And in we go.
My son is tired and has his chair. My friend has
been spelling me all week (Thank God!) in pushing him up these seemingly
small inclines that grow in magnitude with the size of the person in the
wheelchair.
We storm-troop Wal-Mart. Women on a mission.
We find the slippers.
Now, my son has wanted bunny slippers sine he was
diagnosed in July 2000. This is November 2001. That's a long wait.
We find slippers.
Everything but bunny.
We do find, baby Rotweiller slippers that fit. He
loves them. They have floppy ears.
My friend gets a bunch of thigh tops. Said her husband
better not wreck them (he works in construction had has rough hands.)
I suggested she have one pair dedicated to destruction.
I also suggested she get off the plane in only thigh
tops and a trench coat.
But she has kids and they have to go to bed first.
I'm bad.
We then power-push my child through the housewares
and find - yellow rubber gloves.
No pink!
Oh well.
We take off back to the hotel and then get to the
bookfair.
My son has photos to shoot and, after a slight problem
with a jammed camera, he shoots what he wants.
We find CJ. Poor man!
"Oh CJ! We went to Wal-Mart and got you rubbers!"
I am not quiet.
He nearly died right there.
We got photos
.
Then my friend, who is as bad as I am, decided to
get a picture for Pepper who did not make the convention - so we turned
CJ around and did a special photo!
Cute butt!
He is now convinced that his career is over.
Someone (the princess in the top photo) put a whip
in my hand - oh, never do that!!!!
See what you missed, Pepper? Shame
on you!
Hee hee hee.
Then, I went book-shopping. There were a lot of familiar
faces missing but I still filled a bag. Regencies, regencies, regencies.
Next year ---- Reno! And I am driving the new truck.
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