“A human being without the proper empathy or feeling is the same as an android built so as to lack it, either by design or mistake. We mean, basically, someone who does not care about the fate which his fellow living creatures fall victim to; he stands detached, a spectator, acting out by his indifference John Donne’s theorem that ‘No man is an island,’ but giving that theorem a twist: that which is a mental and a moral island is not a man.”
― Philip K. Dick, The Dark-Haired Girl
This last weekend, Candy and I went out on a tour of East Dallas’ best (and worst) thrift and second-hand stores. I always watch an episode of Hoarders before we go, to make sure I don’t buy stuff just to be buying.
I bought a secretary.
No, not this kind of secretary.
Get your mind out of the gutter.
This kind of secretary.
I’ve wanted a good place to store pens and paper – a place I can sit down and write.
And that’s what a secretary does.
We bought it at a little second-hand shop off of Garland Road that supports an animal orphanage – they had some black lab-Bassett hound mix puppies on display – we were lucky to get out of there with only the piece of furniture.
And we weren’t done – not by any means. That part of town is lousy with second hand stores and we toured quite a few, braving the heat which quickly began to rise into blowtorch territory as the blazing sun rose higher in the sky.
Found a nice little down-home Italian place right next door.
Excellent food, very cheap prices… check it out if you’re in the neighborhood.
On we went, this was our old stomping grounds, years ago, and it’s surprising how little everything has changed. The thrift stores still smell the same, of course, that odd smell of other people’s clothes mixed with an air of desperation. I don’t care, I get good deals: wireless G Router for $4.93, Logitech soundsystem with powered subwoofer for $14.97, laptop speakers for 2 bucks. I didn’t buy enough crap to feel like a hoarder.
Oh, look at this. The window of a car insurance place….
“No licence, no problem.” Jeez! Selling car insurance to people without a driver’s license…. and what does that little button that says “HOME” mean?
The day wore us out. The heat – the trudging around.
I do like my secretary, though.