...say the only words I know that you'll understand....
"Lady....lady..."
His English fails him, but the exasperated 'come on, have half a brain, willya?' expression needs no translation. He gestures to the two kitchen stools lying end to end on the floor, the ones I'm blithely stepping over. This, apparantly, is a deliberate barrier rather than general sloppiness.
Okay, Carlos. Fine. I point to the ladder leaning against the wall I'm not allowed to approach.
Is it for sale?
He looks. He fumbles with a tag. He looks at me. His mouth works. He can't tell me what the tag says. If he can read it.
I'll come around, I sigh.
I come around. The tag says FURN DEPT. Not for sale, then.
He shakes his head.
Barriers everywhere.
(Michelle; The Beatles)
3 comments:
Hah. Five stilt mimes, two locations, three ladders isn't going to cut it.
But Natty Boh at MimeCamp is probably a good idea. On second thought, we'd never work....
I'm acquiring a taste for NB. 'Aint that weird?'
"Mime camp"? I have this image of people dressed in black with white facepaint pretending to sew wallets or paddle imaginary canoes...
reading your posts is one of the highpoints in my day. Thank you for your gift with words and images...
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