We have stuff. Like earrings with a lot of breasts.

In my quest to come up with more activities than one human being can possibly engage in without making a dime, I have started making cuff bracelets.  Since I have already purchased my new spring wardrobe (The sleeping bra.  Remember?), I am now purchasing metal cuffs, ribbons, glue, and vintage buttons and earrings for embellishment.  I have also spent a lot of hours picking pieces of glue out of my hair, nose and between my toes. 

I need more embellishments but can’t find any more cheapies online.  My criteria are: 1.true vintage  2. really expensive looking 3. bordering on free.  So yesterday, Now Husband Dan and I went tooling around a cluster of complete junk charming antiques stores whose motto is “We have stuff.”  It is amazing what one can find when one says to a store clerk: “I need junk jewelry.  I don’t care if it’s broken.  It can’t be more than a dollar or two.”  These were not the kinds of items that were in the glass cases.  They were not even items that were on the rickety tables that littered the place.  They were most likely purchased at garage and estate sales or even found in the trash, tragic items left over after the heirs took anything that smacked even vaguely of value or good taste. 

Because NHD and I were the only customers for miles, the salesgirl lavished us with her time.  After a few minutes, out came boxes filled with such items.  NHD and I dove in.  It was more fun than shopping at a fabulous store with an unlimited budget.  Actually, it wasn’t even in the same universe of fun, but it was the best I could do at the moment.  Then, I pulled something out of the box.  I couldn’t believe what I was looking at.  I turned it over and over in my hand.  I held it to the light.  I turned to the salesgirl. 

“Is this–?” I asked.

“It is,” she answered.  “It’s a pair.”

“Uh, no, actually it’s three.”

“No, I mean it’s a pair of earrings.”  She plunged her hand wrist-deep into the box, and sure enough, when she pulled her hand out, she was holding another earring that matched the one I had in my hand.

“That’s, uh, six breasts all together.”

“I know.  They were done by an artist.  The woman who we got them from was wearing a necklace he made.  It had body parts hanging all over it.” 

It only took me a moment to realize that I couldn’t release the breasts back into the wild, where they would be cohabitating with much lesser, and worse, completely unworthy pieces.  I bought them.  It was the only humane thing to do.  It doesn’t matter that I’ll never wear them or never put them on a cuff.  

Instead, like “The Millionaire,” who bestowed a fortune to unsuspecting individuals, I am prepared to change someone’s life with these, uh, works of art.  So I’m declaring a contest.  Write to me.  Tell me in 10 words or less (OK, as many words as you want to) why breast earrings would change your life. If you win, I will send them to you.  I will even pay the postage.  And, if there are people who only need one earring, I will declare two winners.  But if you only need one breast, that won’t work.  I won’t split up the pair whatever-it-is.   So, that’s it.  As they say, operators are standing by.

Tagged: antiques, breasts, earrings, humor, husband, jewelry, life, sarcasm, shopping

Posted in: humor, life, satire