Ms Pink Orpington

I don’t suffer fool lightly. I’m outspoken. I speak my mind.

I’m President of our local exclusive–select, picky, proud– Women’s Club. We do golf and an occasional Fashion Show. I’m in charge of selecting models.  Do not approve of anorexics. We’re full-blown women. In our prime and proud of it.

I’m the wealthiest woman in my Bible Study class. I can write a check for  four figures. I’m a member of our local Tea Party group and volunteer to do all the paper work and keep files on local events and personalities. This town’s riddled with locals, liberals,  progressives, atheists and left-wing radicals. Dreadful. Well,  I can produce when need be. It’s dirty work, but someone has to do it. I also vet books allowed in the local library.  Dare  mention Steinbeck, that horrid Hemingway, Tony Morrison!! I dare you…

I shop at a local Macy’s–they know me there–but purchase fashionable attire at Neiman’s.   I’m proud to be known as narcissistic. I never wear the same outfit twice. Sometimes, when I travel, I take the pick of the lot with me. I can, and do, wear things I wear here at some fine hotel in distant cities.  I sell most things, for a fine price–believe me– at a local Second Hand. Giggle inwardly and point– surreptitiously–at they who dare buy my discards here and show  them off in public. My friends and I enjoy this small  whimsy. I live alone. I’m a widow. And the master bedroom in my three bedroom high-rise– on the top floor, what a view– is my wardrobe.  I read about the lady in Texas with the three-story wardrobe and did so envy her. She did it for charity, of course–people pay to visit and envy and covet–and serves champagne.  She  has a champagne floor. We are truly kindred souls. One of a kind. Sisters under the skin.  I think of doing the same here on a smaller scale, of course. I think she would approve. I think I’ll write a perfumed note and tell her of my great admiration.

I keep two pets. hairless cats–Warm and Fuzzy–they keep me company. Registetered Sphynx, they’re beautiful, awkward, and rare. The only ones in the entire town. I disdain common cats. Mine are pink and long-eared and they play on the terrace. Pink is my favorite color. Thus my nickname.

I admit I shop at the local big box. I buy in bulk. My cats and I could survive for three months without leaving our residence. In case of a disaster I keep a pantry. That’s what I do with my second bedroom. It, like my closet, is well stocked and orderly.

This morning, as I sauntered down the aisles, I discovered, to my dismay, the idiots in charge were out of cat food. I hailed a workman, “Where is the cat food?” I demanded.

“It’s over by the beer.”

“By the beer? is that to imply cat lovers drink beer? We drink Dom.” Guess I told him off.


One Response

  1. I’m glad your attending church! 😉


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