Wednesday, January 13, 2010

Rabbit Fur Coat

The time for the market could be afforded. I slipped out at half past lunch into the frigid January air. Under cover of building overhang and parking garage, a wonder of what the sun might feel like flushed my cheeks. The sting of 35 degrees stung thighs enrobed in brown corduroy.

The market wasn’t mobbed, but a bit flustered with shoppers and those who garner mid-day meals from salad bars.

A small sack of oranges, strawberry jam, dark chocolate, bread, capers, some smoked salmon.

The reusable sack was placed on the belt before anything else. 15 items or less. It moved with purpose, quietly.

The cashier girl wasn’t familiar. Her golden locks, that of the boxed variety, hinging on mullet status, was bundled in the store’s uniform and what appeared to be her own red sweatshirt. She wore Jordache jeans. Her glasses looked a bit euro, in that mod/young/hip sort of way, at least for this particular market in this part of town.

The surrounding neighborhoods are peppered with Russians. The females, especially easy to spot. They dress as if ready to hit the clubs at any given moment.

 “How are you?” She asked, pulling the first items barcode over the scanner. I detected the accent I was expecting, but she spoke English well.

“Good, thanks.” I responded brightly.

Each item was held delicately while being placed in front of the scanner. Then each item was delicately placed in the reusable bag.

The final item was placed into the bag when I noticed it, the fur coat. It was not unexpected, but a happy surprise that reminded me of Rabbit Fur Coat, sung by Jenny Lewis.

“$30.14.” She said.

I handed her $31.00. While she banged open change into their compartments I allowed my mind to wonder for a bit. I retreated to the moment I first heard Rabbit Fur Coat. I started to warm up to the fuzzy quiet of that memory.

“Thank you and have a nice day.” She said while handing me receipt and change.

“Thanks, you too.” I said.

I felt a final flush of heat from an overhead heater before walking out to my car.


  1. You have a new blog. I don't think you mentioned this. I just noticed the link in the margin of Amuse-bouche for Two. How exciting. I should be in the kitchen preparing Rachel Eats Cabbage and sausage cake, so I must run, but I cannot wait to return and read.

  2. I'm glad you found it. I hadn't mentioned. I was just hoping that people would happen upon it naturally, like you did. :)