… but then, I always smile at people.
I am a friendly sort of person that always smiles at folks … and gets smiled at in return.
It started way back in school when there was a song called “Windy” … and the words fit me.
Who’s tripping down the streets of the city
Smilin’ at everybody she sees …
If I wasn’t smiling at everyone I saw before that song, I certainly did after that. And said hi to everyone. And amazingly enough everyone smiled back. Well, most everyone.
So it was not particularly surprising to me that today everyone was smiling at me. It started when I showed up at Texas Linda’s house to help her paint a room in the house.
It made sense to remove my glasses. After all, the other day while painting my bedroom, I had gotten lots of little specks on the lenses because I hadn’t taken them off.
I think I now understand why they always mention that goggle thing when they give how-to paint directions.
I had worn a sweatshirt which worked for weather that lurked around forty degrees, windy and rainy … but didn’t work particularly well once the rain and wind stopped and the temperature went up to the upper sixties.
Rather than having me run back to my house to get a t-shirt suitable for painting, Linda was kind enough as to lend me one of her paint splattered t-shirts to wear.
Between all the projects Linda, Ann and I have done over the last many weeks we all have a wonderfully full supply of paint splattered clothes that are perfect for home renovations.
I quickly threw off the sweatshirt and pulled on the paint t-shirt … and started the room at hand.
I was comfortable.
As an aside, the wide wood trim was painted white and the ceiling and walls were painted a beautiful mushroomy shade of mystery paint. I only say mystery paint because it was a shade which had been rejected by someone else at Lowe’s but embraced by Linda as perfect for the room … and did not have the color name on the outside. This made the price more than reasonable.
The contrast is outstanding. We were done in no time flat.
And other than a few additional paint splatters … and a blob of paint which landed squarely in my right eye … things went fairly smoothly … as far as I could tell.
Which brought her to the next phase of the room … what to do with the floor.
Lots of choices were at hand. We cut a small part out of the carpet, and the padding underneath that, and the carpet underneath that, and the foamy padding underneath that.
Do you have any idea how much dust can accumulate over the course of a hundred years? That’s how far down we got on the floor … to the dust level.
The hopes were that we would find a restorable hardwood floor like had happened in my house. But instead we found a wooden sub-flooring and stopped.
The choices were now split between installing some hardwood laminate, painting the wood and buying a large area rug, or installing wall to wall carpeting.
To that end we decided to go out into the public and do a little checking of what might be available. Except I had not spent a lot of time putting on makeup or anything for public consumption.
We went to Lowe’s to price flooring and pick up some additional supplies. Everyone smiled at me … a lot.
We went to another big box store and priced flooring and area rugs and some other additional supplies. Everyone smiled at me … a lot.
We went to a grocery store to pick up some supplies for dinner. Everyone smiled at me … a lot.
We stopped at a book store to check on a book I had been interested in getting in print as opposed to on my Nook. Everyone smiled at me … a lot.
We went to Pier One to check out bedding for my bedroom and area carpets for her. Everyone smiled at me … a lot.
We went to Wal-Mart and got some inexpensive pillow cases for me and a nice area rug for her. Everyone smiled at me … a lot.
And when I reached up to brush the hair out of my face, I felt something … something hard … something sticky and hard … drying paint which had made part of my hair stick straight up.
Okay, maybe not totally straight up, but glopped together enough that it might make people smile when they saw the combination of my hair and the paint splattered shirt.
So, I cringed a bit and while walking through the store, I started pulling the offending gloppy paint out of my hair … a few strands at a time.
I told myself that none of the people who had smiled at me paid my bills. I knew none of them. And I would most likely never see them again. And thank goodness, I had discovered the paint before we went to yet another dozen stores.
Once out in the car, I made a comment to Linda about all the smiles … and how embarrassed I was at the paint I had been sporting all afternoon in my hair.
“That might be why they smiled.” she said. “Or maybe it’s the shirt.”
I assured her that the paint splattered shirt went well with the paint splattered hair … and at least it had given people a reason to smile.
“No, not that” she said. “Look at the shirt … carefully.”
The shirt was inside out.
Some days it doesn’t pay to be comfortable.