Tales from the Antique Store.

Pottery

 On a warm day in the spring, hundreds of people bustled merrily around a parking lot. It was usually a parking lot, but today, as on any other Saturday, it was a swap meet. A pleasant murmur of voices over voices filled the air.

A plump women of around sixty sat minding her shop. Her name was Pauline, and she greeted anyone stopping by with a warm, jovial grin. Her round face was framed by still-dark brown hair that reached to her waist.

As the day carried on, people came and went. Some bought her pottery, some only stopped to admire. The people became fewer and fewer until Pauline decided it was time to clean up. As she started to stand, a handsome older gentleman came to greet her. They spoke for a moment, then the man turned to pick through her wares. He shouted in delight upon finding something that caught his eye, and he rushed to Pauline to make his purchase. She smiled when she saw it. It was her favorite piece of pottery for sale. She had hoped to herself that nobody would buy it, but she sold it to the man anyway and waved goodbye.

When Pauline had been sitting at home for less than an hour, she received a phone call.

On the other line, her friend Victoria was shouting with excitement about her visiting brother-in-law. When she calmed down, she asked Pauline if she was dating anyone. She knew full-well that Pauline had been single since Gus died. Victoria finally asked the question: did Pauline want to go on a blind date?

Pauline stopped and thought. It was time to move on, but she was set in her ways. She'd even adopted a cat, now that it wouldn't set off Gus's allergies. She agreed with some hesitation. After hanging up, she wondered what in the world she had gotten herself into.

Pauline tore through her closet. Her clothes were all ugly, and the pretty ones didn't fit. She settled on a dress. Green velvet. Mid-calf. It covered her shoulders, but its neckline was low. It was perfect. She could show off what she still had. All she needed now was a pair of tights to hide the veins.

She sat in a bathrobe with a full face of makeup and her hair in curlers as she spoke to her cat. The cat didn't understand a word of what she said, but he nodded his head sympathetically and meowed in all the right places. At five-thirty, she left for the restaurant.

As she sat listening to the soft jazz from the speakers, she became more and more worried. At six oh one, she still sat alone, and her nerves screamed at her to leave. Before she had the chance, a smiling man walked to her and introduced himself. He had a square jaw and thick gray hair parted at the side. He wore a collared shirt under a leather jacket, and his charcoal slacks broke at a pair of shiny black oxfords. He was God's belated gift to women. He introduced himself as Vincent and sat down. They spoke for a moment and Pauline got the distinct feeling they'd met before.

They had! He was the man who bought the pottery! He was handsome, he had great taste, and as she spoke he hung on her every word. She had the feeling (or the hope) that someday the pottery she sold him would be displayed in a home they would share. Her fantasy was interrupted by a question:

"Do you like cats?" he asked, "Gertrude was allergic."