And a Peacock Painted Pink

In my world of furniture painting, there is a sisterhoodish competitiveness. Does that sound weird? Does it sound like competitive amateur BBQ competition? Does it sound like the Betty Crocker Bake Off? (Man, wouldn’t THAT be cool? Those heifers reel in some dough!) Sorry, I had to pun…I was channeling my inner Carrie Bradshaw.

Anyways… It was Sunday and I was off to the beach on a quaint little island where millionaires try to act broke and broke people try to make friends with the millionaires who own beach houses. I’m dragging.. I know! Let me get right to it:

I entered a retail and deli place that has the coolest painted furniture, it was originally some of the inspiration that started my own painting. Filling my eyeballs full of eye candy, and waiting for a latte, I started admiring some of the works. There was an adorable antique child’s dresser painted pink with a wisp of white spray painted on the edges. Spray painting the whole damned deal is almost a sin in some circles. Sometimes I will spray a base just to get rid of the “this was my grannies hutch but now she is dead” smell before I do some hand painting and detailing. Paula Deen puts butter in her dishes and calls it Cookin’ With Love. I put my hands in paint and smack a dresser around for a week and call it Paintin’ With Love.

Okay, back to this sprayed up hot mess of a dresser. This snobby old gal strides up to me and says, “Isn’t it fabulous?!” I kinda screwed up my face a bit (I assume) and said, “Meh”. “I paint too and I was just noticing that this dresser is———— sprayed”. This old bat coiled up on me like she was a Cobra and I was a mouse. She spilled. “We ONLY collaborate with renowned artisans!” I adjusted my Target sun hat and said, “What’s this one RENOWNED for, Krylon? Trigger- finger -notoriety?” The shop keeper was not amused.

Fast forward 10 minutes and in the door storms this beachy looking suitcase- faced lady with this big-ass hairdo pulled up on top of her head every which-a-way and had feathers (and I don’t mean those cute/trendy peacock feather tips or pheasant tips that all the cutesy gals wear) I am talking a straight up 30 inch 4 stem peacock arrangement sticking out of her hair-dome! I was mesmerized, even though I knew she was headed right for me and was there to bite off a chunk of my ass.

Approaching me from my left she walked right up to me and said, “Hey lady, you said something about my art?!” At that very moment I wondered if, in fact, her “art” had been rigged with a motion censored voice recording that was electronically transmitted to her ear, or if she just was wicked telepathic. I said, “Uh…no. It was some other fat lady with a real mean dog. I heard the whole thing!” Usually I’m really good at getting away from crazy people but I was still waiting on my ham sammich so I was staying. I didn’t care if Peacock Patsy had an all out conniption fit, I was getting my ham and cheesy, melty thing if it hair-lipped every cow in Texas!

Surprisingly, she backed off and just snorted as she morphed off to the yummies counter. The smell of coffee and melty things has a calming effect. They should make air fresheners out of it for painted furniture/deli places at the beach.

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Topless Tuesday at the Thrift

toplessI am late for everything.  I have two teen sons, a full time job (I call it my “Big girl job”), the Vintage Warehouse space and have a full load at USF.  So what that means is that when I am somewhere…somewhere else is a sufferin’.  I have to work extra hard at everything to get it done and that includes scoring my good junk and antiques to paint.  And before you get your thong in a wad, I am not all about painting great-Aunt-Gerties prized Berkey and Gay buffet that has been in the family 3 generations.  I am about getting a half sanded buffet that Jolene is selling for her crack habit.  (I am kidding about the crack but it’s funny to say so I do).  I haul these half sanded junkerz in and they roll back out like they have had Botoxx and a full-on ass-lift.  So, I see it as a service to it.

At any rate…   I rolled up to one of my face honey holes (I can’t tell you where or I’ll have to take you out) and on the step were these tops…a bikini, a ragged out bra and a push up bra.  Panic came over me as I feared it was Topless Tuesday at the honey hole and here I was knocking these A and B cups straight out of the game.  A tingle rushed up as I knew that if this were a contest for a discont that I WAS GONNA WIN!.  I quickened my step, rushed the door to see every heiffer in there with a shirt on.  Dang… I had missed it again… me and my full schedule.