What’s wrong with your ankle?
So asked one of my new co-workers. I was expecting this at some point. Er, nothing. Uh, it’s just that my knee-high stocking has fallen down. She seemed a bit embarrassed for asking. She shouldn’t’ve been. Remember about Business Casual vs. Shabby is the New Black? In this case, the stocking didn’t just puddle around down at my ankle. It slid down in such a way that the top of it flared out making it look like my foot had grown a kind of vertical “cuff” of skin around my ankle. Like a two inch cuff. It’s hard to describe but it was *really* weird looking! I’m still in the period of being shy and feeling out how to let the [cough] harmless but wild weirdness side of my personality and sense of humor come out at my job. One of these days I will flip over to my [cough] other side and people will know where I’m coming from. And maybe they’ll want to chuck me out the door. ‘course, this is just a short-term internship and I’m only working about 12 hours a week, so it’s possible that by the time we get to that point, I won’t be there any more anyway.
This all brought back memories of being, I dunno, about 14 maybe, and spending the day with my friend Helen and her mom at their church bizarre bazaar. Church bizarre bazaars were big events in the thriving community of Sault Ste. Siberia when I was a kid. And they were actually fun. People set up booths in the basements of the churches where they sold all kinds of interesting hand-made things. And there was tea and coffee and cookies and tiny little sandwiches. I think today’s restaurants might take a tip and offer similar little tea sandwiches as an alternative to those huge sandwiches that always make me feel like I’m carrying around lead for hours after lunch.
So Helen and I were at the bizarre bazaar pretty much for the duration. Her mom was working at it and I think we were supposed to be helping but, for the life of me, I can’t remember that we did anything constructive. I was dressed up in an delightful little outfit that involved a short jacket and *short* mini-skirt in a purple cotton flowered print. And nylon stockings. People did get dressed up for those teas, in a Saturday afternoon way, but, looking back, I have to wonder who I was trying to impress with that get-up. *Boys* probably. Except that boys were in very short supply at church bizarres bazaars.
About halfway through the day, I randomly happened to notice that there was a huge LUMP on the back of one of my calves, underneath my stocking. I was totally freaked out! Somebody said, “maybe it’s a blood blister!” YIKES!!!
I forget exactly what happened next. I think that for a while, I walked around being freaked out and wondering what it was. Even though there seemed to be nothing at all wrong with my leg. The lump didn’t hurt and my leg worked perfectly well.
Finally, I gathered up my courage and headed off to the Ladies Room. With quite some bit of terror, I peeled off my stocking and found, dun dun dun, a big clump of DOG FUR!