Clees and I chew up a perfectly good Sunday shopping for a clawfoot bathtub. I hopped into several 5 footers at Omega Salvage- only upright sitting allowed unless you are Napoleon. I pressure C to try sitting in one as well, but he won't budge. He gamely says he knows what it's like. My sister says there are two types of people in the world. The first types, when they find their friend has broken a leg and is forced to wear crutches, will feel sympathy for their friend's pain but immediately and enthusiastically demand to try out the crutches. The second types would never even ask.
She also tells me again there are two types in the world. When you ask them "What do you think about bird diapers?" The first will respond quite seriously "What do you mean - diapers that birds wear or diapers with birds on them????". The second types will just burst out laughing. My sister takes set theory very seriously.
So C and I, after bad unfriendly service at Omega Salvage scooter over to Urban Ore. I again want to try the tubs- now with the real leg room of 5 feet 6. Chris looks at the miscellaneous scraps of trash, brown paper bag, leaves, and an old english beer can in the tub and then looks at me- some tubs are precariously placed on dollies. Such dangers mean nothing to a true tub shopper; I dive right in. I am ready to fork over my cash. While C guards the desired tub(casually claiming with one hand on the rim), I go over to the moustached cashier. As I point to our tub outside, C furiously wave his arms in the international distress signal. I apologize to the moustache and run outside wondering. He tugs at my jacket. "What if for the most minute chance our deal falls through- better to be tubless than tubful." Actually, C said "Don't you think we should wait until the house closes." He also claims he did not put his hand on the tub as it was too low on the ground. One true fact, we headed home no tub the wiser.
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