A funny thing happened to The Artist at Gardens R Us yesterday. I related in his own words:
“So, I was walking around with my trolley and my five yukka trees. And this guy walked past me. And then he was like trying to make eye contact. Then he walked past again and so I said “Hi Mate”. And he said “I’ve got a boot full of yukka trees – do you want to buy them for $50?”. So I said “No mate, I need these one’s I’ve got because they’re small but if you have any of these (see picture below) then I would have taken the boot full for $50”. So he said “I’ve just shredded a whole bunch of those – they were no good for my kids”.
Like seriously, what?
My take on the conversation was as follows – also about plant matter and what the seller was meaning and hence understanding.
“I’m selling weed. Do you want? It’s in the car – $50 a baggie”.
“No mate – I don’t smoke – do you have anything more sophisticated because then I would be interested in a baggie for $50” [The Artist has never taken a drug in his life but neither was he aware that the guy wasn’t selling yukka trees]
“Sorry mate – don’t sell cocaine – if I get caught or screw over the Russian mafia controlling the drug trade they’ll kill me or I’ll get major jail time and I won’t see my kids grow up”.
The Artist maintains the guy was selling yukka trees. My arse. Who goes to Gardens R Us and propositions people to come and buy yukka trees out of their boot? Oscar however thinks that it is a brilliant marketing and sales strategy. He said for example if he was selling his house he would go to show days in the area and poach for potential buyers. Likewise if he was selling his car – he would spend the day at a relevant dealership sourcing clients. I guess there’s wisdom in there somewhere. If you want to get your bones broken or something.
Or maybe I’ve just been watching too much Breaking Bad? Apparently five seasons straight will do that to you.
Another misunderstanding occured on the beach this afternoon amongst The Artist again and some children he managed to magnetise with his ball on the beach.
You can’t take my husband anywhere where there are children and not expect to become the creche for the afternoon. Like attracting like or something.
After various games of soccer and catch we were down to The Artist, Miss10 and two little four year olds, whom we will refer to as The Rabbitoh and The Other. The Rabbitoh was transient and kept getting distracted by other children. One thing led to another which led to a game of “piggy in the middle” with The Artist, Miss10 and The Other. The Rabbitoh returned which rendered The Artist as the unneeded plus four. All of a sudden The Rabbitoh ran tearfully to his dad – “they’re calling me a piggy” he was wailing. Oh dear God.
The Artit and I collapsed while the poor man had to explain to The Rabbitoh that they were not in fact called him a “piggy” and the he was merely a part of the game.
Between you and me – a piggy is much cuter than a Rabbitoh on any given day. And that I guess, is that. Holding thumbs for Monday people – let’s hope it’s not a shithouse of a week on the back of a wonderful weekend. Love and light xxx