I went to a pig roast last night. I didn’t see the pig. I think I may have eaten some of it though. It was in an aluminum tray, on a granite countertop, in a gorgeous kitchen. At one point in the night’s conversation, at this pig roast, we chatted about a 5′x7′ rug in the living room. Of Asian decent, this rug’s white was really white. Like someone was on their hands and knees with a Tide Pen, zapping out the date and opium stains that accrued over the years. It was bought in Paris…or somewhere in France (I wasn’t really listening)…and that’s chic I guess. I was then told it cost 1100 Euros.
“Well, that’s a lot of money!” I stated confident in my assessment. Give or take a melt down in Greece, isn’t that still something around $2000? (Please consult your local Thomas Cooke for the most UTD exchange rate.) The reply to my comment, well, annoyed me. The woman telling the story, mind you, not the owner of said “antique,” turned to me, looking like a prize fighter ready for battle, and said “No it isn’t.”
Well, times have changed I guess! With my grandchildren gathered around the fire, I’ll tell of the times when gas cost $.80. Possibly, of a time when we used gas! And when people didn’t care what they spent on rugs in France! I replied, in a kind manner, “Girl, you should go to an auction, I can get you one for $50.” And the conversation was closed. Over. Fin! We moved on to some other nonsense about how fabulous goat meat is or something. Ugh. Is this what pig roasts have come to?
So I returned to my home, looked at the sunset, and sought my goosfraba. In retrospect, in the past, I would have said that rug was a steal! But now I think of it as the cost of a 500 square foot pasture for llama. How priorities have changed.
Ehhh…Opps…if you’ll excuse me, a guest just informed me a hoard of ladybugs have emerged from a vent in the stairwell. An invasive species from the Orient, they must know I think the rug was a fake. And they’re seeking their revenge!