Fashion Parade

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'When I arrived I was cleanshaven.'

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Not too long ago Bud and I spent some time waiting to get our taxes done. Anxious waiting is the best kind. Several other couples were sharing our misery. They were sitting far enough away that I couldn’t initiate a conversation like I often do, so I had to content myself with giving them a thorough inspection, since their conversation held little interest. I admired the woman’s sweater of cheery buttercup yellow, well-made, and obviously high quality. It fit her perfectly. She saw me admiring her and smiled. What a nice lady. I’d like to visit with her.
Whispering, I pointed her out to Bud, “I love that woman’s sweater.”
Bud gave a cursory look, then commented, “I like her husband’s shirt.”
I hadn’t even noticed. The man was wearing the same Walmart shirt Bud was sporting, both a little worse for the wear.

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