When I was in college, home from school for break, working to earn as much as I could…I was stuck driving my dad’s antique boat of a car. For those interested it was a 1967 Crown Imperial (in essentially mint condition.) Somehow, I got a flat tire. It was all I could do to pull off to the side of the road to get out of the way. (The car was wide…like “high resolution toast” or maybe that was just something a comedian said once…?) As it turned out, I ended up nearly blocking someone’s driveway just as he was returning home from working in NYC. He took one look at the car and said “How much do you want for it?” Knowing how much my dad loved it, I answered quickly and confidently, “It is not for sale.”
Flash forward about 7 to 10 years.
There was this adorable little shop in Philly, just down the street from my office. It was my “go to spot” for any and every gift. No one ever got a duplicate of a gift I found in this shop. Fun, whimsical, practical, one-of-a-kind, funny, hand-crafted, art, architecturally designed – any and all of the above – were the gifts displayed and available in this shop.
I was devastated when it moved out of the city into their suburban location on the Main Line. Occasionally, I would be in the area and stop. It didn’t matter what season or whose birthday was next, they were going to get a gift that I bought then and there from that shop.
Today, I had a few minutes before my meter expired after a meeting…which was, you guessed it – right there – the shop.
Past, Present, Future.
Today, is my lucky day; or maybe, my sister’s, my kids’, girlfriends’…lucky ducky day! I was going to go shopping to find some options for the perfect gift for a birthday or Christmas – or both.
I found an item, tucked in behind others that were not perfect for my gift list, but it was missing a price tag…I thought nothing of it. Literally, nothing. I mean, I needed to know how much, but I had an idea from the other similarly merchandized items.
This apparently meant it was not for sale. I guess, due to the unique nature of the store’s inventory, the artists who consign their goods do not follow a standard rhyme or reason for retail price points. The friendly gentleman who was working was sad to tell me that he had no success reaching the owner for the price. I still bought a few items; they are still incredible (I think) but my mind keeps going back to that one little…shhh. I can’t say. They may find the price and ship it to me in time to gift. Tomorrow is another day filled with anticipation of the season, I can’t wait.
~ Dawn aka Hat Girl