Beautiful, Innit?
“You sure, you REALLY want these?”
anxiously rubbing his short beard he asked with a perplexity that doubled as a silent plea. Me, instantly annoyed with having to repeat myself more than twice (It use to be once, but meditation has helped with that) blinked slowly, smiled with my eyes (thanks Tyra, thanks face mask), and replied with a dryness only Daria could rival “Yep”. He sighed and threw his hands in the air as I watched his theatrics as well as the time on my vintage gold Casio. You see, I was 20 minutes into my 15 minute break and I was very quietly negotiating a magazine purchase at the Indian owned corner store down the street from my work. The most random of gems, the entire right wall of the establishment is covered with magazines. Domestic, International, fashion, technology, art, lifestyle, music, literary journals, - you name it, they’ve got it. It was almost a year ago when I bounded in, bent on quickly grabbing some plain Lays chips to go with my weekly cheat Turkey, smoked gouda, and arugula Sandwich (plant-based and still going…strong?) when I found myself in periodical paradise.
Today’s adventure included an overly priced Blueberry Chai seltzer water and two past issues of British Vogue. Oy, our “hardly here for it heroine” (that’s me) had stumbled into not one, but two lingering past issues and found her enthusiasm not shared by the owners son who was not sure how to ring them up. After pleading a Cochran level case on why they should be free, it was here I found myself on the stand being questioned on how badly I really wanted these. It would simply easier for him to dispose of them as they were suppose to be out of the store anyway- but nope, not today, not on my watch. Both Issues, February and March 2022 featured beautiful black women. One cover, a new generation of African models: bright eyes beaming, radiant dark skin chicly contrasting against a cerulean blue bench and Vogue header wearing Spring 2022’s newest fashions. The other cover, Naomi Campbell with a voluminous veil of soft wavy curls, holds her newest and most precious accomplishment - her daughter. There was no way I was walking back to work late and defeated. I’d just be late. I ryhthmically tapped the sole of my vans and my almond shaped manicure on the counter after expressing the certainty of my order. Finally giving in, discounting the issues, he slid both copies into a brown paper sleeve, rang me out, and waved me off tardy yet joyfully back to work.
Stay resilient and timely, my friends.
