Lorraine, is that you?

I went to the store the other day and there was a card table set up in front of a toilet paper display. The red-smocked woman behind it was giving away free samples of pineapple.

Never one to pass up a free sample – isn’t that why most of us shop at Sam’s Club after all? – I stood in line. Well, that’s not true. I was the only one in line, which proved that it must not have been a fruity day.

I felt a bit sorry for the woman in red and her lack of customers. My mind jumped to my last visit to Costco when a wiry fellow with an extravagant comb-over was handing out tiny paper cups of some watery concoction made out of seaweed and vitamins and guaranteed to have been dipped straight from the Fountain of Youth. He declared it was mighty tasty but I declined his proffered cup – politely, of course.

I really didn’t want a slice of pineapple but my daughter insisted I get one so I wandered up to the line and the lady in red. She looked up from where she was straightening her wares and her face broke into a delighted smile.

“Lorraine!” she declared, holding out her arms as if to hug me from afar.

I shook my head. “Nope. Jan. My name is Jan,” I told her.

She looked doubtful. “You’re not Lorraine?”

Maybe she thought I’d forgotten my name that morning…left it home along with the checkbook and the little wad of Kleenex that was slated for the car.

I smiled and told her again that no, my name was Jan, not Lorraine. She peered closely and frowned. “You look just like Lorraine,” she informed me, and then added, “I just saw Lorraine a few minutes ago. Did you change clothes?”

Clearly, she was convinced that I had somehow misplaced my name and that, given time, my mind would pop back to normalcy and I would realize that, by gum, I really was Lorraine.

“Can I have some of that pineapple?” I asked, hoping to get her mind off of the name thing and back to the important task at hand.

She thought about it and finally fished out a little packet of pineapple. She handed it over, but with a bit of trepidation because clearly I was not coming clean with my identity. Maybe she didn’t want to feed a liar.

“You look just like her,” she stated accusingly, with her head cocked just a bit to the left as if maybe a new view of my face would either confirm or deny that I was Lorraine.

“Lorraine works here,” she said, adding that she did think it was odd that Lorraine could walk by just minutes before in her little uniform and suddenly, quick as a wink, be wearing shorts and a t-shirt and sandals and wandering the store just like a normal person.

I thanked her heartily for my pineapple and walked away. I could feel her eyes on me and the arrows of animosity piercing my back. It was not very kind of Lorraine to do this, after all, to pretend she was someone else. As I left the store, the woman in red was totally flummoxed and still staring after me. I’ve wondered ever since what she thought when she encountered the real Lorraine.

Recipe for skunk
You sometimes find the oddest things at garage sales. In this case, along with tables of stuff, a woman was offering skunk recipes. It seems the dog of one of her customers had a close encounter with a little black and white furry beast. The woman used the traditional tomato juice remedy, which did little more than give a tomato scent to the overpowering skunk scent. According to the garage sale woman, this is a better recipe:

1 quart hydrogen peroxide
¼ C baking soda
Dash of Dawn soap

Mix together and wash your pet with a washcloth. Then sit the little bugger down and tell him about skunks.

Quote of the week
Speaking of dogs…
They say the dog is man’s best friend. I don't believe that. How many of your friends have you neutered? (Larry Reeb)