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Common Sense For Common People

A Knight In Rusty Armour

March 28th, 2011 by Bob Gilmore

It is Saturday morning and my responses to our E-Diner yarns were delayed due to the fact that it’s busier than a Kansas City stockyard next door. We have been assisting any way we can the last few days to make the blushing bride’s (“Dana”) big day go as smooth as a peeled egg. The wedding starts in a few hours and will be filled with twenty-somethings probably texting each other inside the church. I can smell the aroma of my Cauldron of Comments that is already starting to boil and bubble. I will call “em as I see ‘em. I got myself caught up in an interesting situation on Thursday evening and along with your misc. comments about young people versus adults, I will unleash a story that has all the elements of a classic fable that I will call “A Knight in Rusty Armour”. It will be descriptive, heartwarming, very wordy and contain dragons and an unlikely hero. The preparation of this wedding also helps to heat the cauldron. A woman would consider the fable more seriously. Chivalry is not dead and I can prove it. By the way, the cat’s stool sample was negative. Here comes the bride so I must get dressed, in Killer Threads

I’m back from the wedding, it’s late and all is quiet. I’m pondering the idea of starting the Knight story for you guys. I think I’ll make a pot of coffee first. I’ll be right back….OK I’m back. If you guys have to go to the bathroom, now is the time. You know how wordy I can get. Here we go…”Once upon a time…..”

It was late Thursday afternoon while driving home from filling out yet another job application, my cell phone rang and was told to report to the large dress shop that “D” uses for formal frocks. The store was open until 8:30pm and it was already 5pm. This was a final attempt to find a “better outfit” to wear to (today’s) wedding. With all the action of a red Torino in a Starsky & Hutch car chase, It was balls-out to the frock shop. Why my opinion matters now is beyond me, since I’m told I’m never right and have been in this scenario and store many times. Nevertheless I arrive in true Adam-12 style.

The store is fairly large and is chock-full of formal, party, wedding and prom dresses and gowns. The sizes range from zero to 28 so you must be prepared for sudden shocks as females go in and out of the row of dressing booths to get opinions from relatives, spouses and friends. There are also multiple full-length mirrors in this area and it tends to look like a carnival fun house. Some people don’t understand why you should not try on a mermaid style gown if you are pushing over 200 pounds.

While my better half was busy in her quest, I took a seat at ground zero by the dressing rooms since this is were the decision making process takes place. By this time the only other customer in this area was a senior woman and a young girl in a sweat suit getting ready to try on a few garments she was carrying. I didn’t pay much attention and sat across from her after she politely said hello. She looked dismal so I started a little small talk and was informed that she was the girls grandmother and was “stuck with the job” of escorting her because her mother was too busy and would not make the time to shop for the THREE proms she was invited to. Wow…that was harder than I would slam a door. I was still uncomfortable as I pondered why ma and g-ma would not be proud that others thought enough of the girl to invite her to three expensive formals. What makes this young lady different? I was about to find out….

What emerged from the dressing area left me breathless. She was a beautiful girl-next-door classic with long thick wavy hair that was a mix of honey and the color of old copper pipe. Her velvety skin had a warm tone. The gown she had on was a floor length number that was the color of hot molten flowing lava. It was a very sleek, fitted rig. Like most females she started to do the little war dance in front of the mirror that consists of twisting her head and turning to check the look of every angle along with creating invisible high heels by standing on their toes. This ritual and the wet hair towel wrap-and-flip are developed moments after birth. The front of the dress came up to a halter style top that was sporting enough cleavage to keep you constantly daydreaming. When she turned around and pulled her hair forward I saw that the dress was completely backless. The back was cut so low that when your eyes run down her spine it feels like a fast ride on an elevator the way your stomach jumps when you stop at the ground floor. The fabric made her ass look like a perfect mouth-watering peach. She was built for speed and if the person that will be escorting her wants to put their arm around her they will have to shift down into 2nd to handle those curves.

You could tell by the look on her face and the tone of her voice that this was a “must have” and she also tried on two others that were “keepers” and would bring these deadly weapons to bear at the other functions. One was a green rig similar to the lava dress and the other was a short dark purple atomic reactor that left little to the imagination and will leave a path of destruction and broken hearts like the Martians did in War of the Worlds.

What she did not realize is that this was about to happen to her…

All the while the young lady was trying the garments, she would ask g-ma for constructive advice and opinions.

Deep in the Forrest of Taffeta the young lady was trying on the garments, she would as g-ma for constructive advice and opinions. All she received was snide comments and dull remarks about style, price and colors. This gathered my full attention and I caught g-mas game early on. This girl was sweet and not a spoiled bee-otch and did not deserve this badgering.

No matter what this girl would wear to a formal, rest assured the front of her would capture every ones imagination upon entering and the back of her would hold their attention until long after she walked out of sight.

The negative comments continued with each garment and I could see what it was doing to the girl. I could not stand by and do nothing so after every comment I would throw a few complements and opinions as heavy as blacksmith anvils, frustrating g-ma. She knew in her heart that her three selections were perfect and asked g-ma if she could purchase them this evening. G-ma fired back with “that’s your mothers decision-it’s her problem.” I was still stunned as the girl opened up her cell phone to call her mother for permission to buy the garments. She closed her phone after a brief conversation and I could see the anticipation drain from her face. She told g-ma that her mother had not time for this right now and that the best she could hope for is for (mom) to bring her back tomorrow and “we’ll see”. THAT DID IT…

G-ma responded with a smug look and told her hang up the dresses and get ready to leave. I could feel the anger welling up inside me and the feeling of my clothes turning to metal. The heavy sensation of the Excalibur was in my right hand. The area around my glasses became dark as if looking through the openings of a bucket shaped helmet. The girl was crushed. The heavy stench of brimstone surrounded the g-dragon and her large bat-like wings engulfed the maiden in a sinister shadow.

With heavy heart the maiden handed back the dresses to the sales lady and asked if the could be held until she could return with her mom the next day. The lady said she would hold them only until late afternoon because it will then be Friday (busy) and it is the height of prom shopping season.

I could feel the sting of the g-dragon’s tail as she clutched the maiden in her talons and flew out of the shop, positive that she would report her version of what transpired to her offspring (mom) upon arriving at her lair.

The gouges, rust and scrapes in the Armour that I have forged over my lifetime so far, reflected back from the mirrors and reminded me that I have slain far more tenacious foes than what I have just encountered. Cutting the head off the g-dragon was no longer an option. What was needed was a device of lethal cunning, with the ability to slay not only the g-dragon but also her no-time-for-this offspring, from a far distance.

I explained what happened to the sales lady and asked to see the prices of the 3 frocks. The green number and the purple killer were.. NOT CHEAP and if combined would amount to half the price of my first used car. The Lava dress however, had an additional tag along with two other stickers. I asked the sales lady to help decipher the price and she said that the tag was a price reduction due to the fact that it was the last one left and will not be reordered or it has been discontinued. The stickers allowed an additional 50% reduction. My iron attire squeaked as I pointed my heavy sword directing her attention to the very tall rack near the dressing booths. “That ‘s the rack (truthfully) that the girl picked the gown from..” “and there is a little sign on the top that says additional 50% off” She looked up and said “what sharp eyes you have!” and then said yes, there would be another reduction of the marked item. (reduced price minus 50% minus 50%) “SOLD!!” I said to her and she was taken by surprise. I instructed her to ring up the dress and hold it for the girl and give it to her as a gift with my complements should she return with her mother, and also tell her that I want to make sure that at least one of her three wishes comes true. The sales lady as deeply touched and asked what to do if she did not return. I instructed her to credit my account if she did not return, changed her mind or was not comfortable with a stranger’s gift or just put the funds toward the other items. She took my number a promised to call with the outcome no matter what. Gallantry is way cool. As I left the frock shop my Armour felt lighter and more comfortable as I squeaked, rattled and clanked towards the car. It’s been a long time since I donned these devastating duds.

Friday had my mind on various distractions and while cleaning the litter box around 4pm, my cell phone rang. I answered and a woman’s voice said “is this Bob?” (yes) “this is the sales lady from the dress store” ” the young lady and her mother came back today and I told them the whole story and the young lady is with me and would like to talk to you-please hold.” A moment later a sweet voice said hello an started gushing with gratitude and thanked me repeatedly along with a quiver in her voice that also had undertones of disbelief. I told her that she was more than welcome and to have fun at whichever function she decides to wear it. I also told her that it is common to alter the gown by cutting it above the knees for use as a party or cocktail dress after the formal is over. I asked if her mother will let her get the other two dresses and she paused and quietly said maybe not. I instructed her to keep up the pressure and tell mom the money she didn’t spend on the gown she now has can be put toward the other two. I wished her all the best and said good-by to the fair maiden.

As I closed up the cell phone I said to myself in a low voice: “Fair Maiden…I kneel before you and offer you my compassion and to prove my devotion, I offer you this gift…it is the head of the Dragon.” THE END

I know you are all wondering the same things and you will haunt me until I tell you. The young ladies name is EDITH (e-dee) and the final cost of the Lava Gown was $49 bucks. Bob G.

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This entry was posted on Monday, March 28th, 2011 at 9:26 am and is filed under General Buzz. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.

3 responses about “A Knight In Rusty Armour”

  1. BevGetz said:

    I’ve read this twice and both times had to choke back tears. Thanks Rich & Bob! So encouraging to finally see a glimmer of hope that chivalry isn’t dead, but thriving – perhaps on a much smaller scale than it used to be – but, none-the-less THRIVING! BEAUTIFUL & very moving story! On behalf of every girl who wants to wear the prettiest, princess dress to the prom, THANK YOU BOB! BIG HUG!

  2. Joannah said:

    Oh my goodness… what a touching story! The writing is so vivid I really felt like I was there or being ‘told’ the story by the Rusty Knight himself. ;-) It really touched my heart and reminded me… the fullest happiness really does lie in the doing for others, pure fullfilling joy. And I have no doubts that much goodness will come back to you Bob! Thanks for sharing! xx

  3. Life begins When? A Rusty Birthday Story - Buzz Paths - Common Sense For Common People said:

    [...] now re-join Sir Bobalot, the Knight in Rusty Armour,as he approaches the Great Swamp of Memories along the winding road of his life. He stops at the [...]

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