It Was The Size of A Pencil Eraser

by jkatejohnston

22 April 1995

Dear Max,

Yesterday I met Annie and Beth for lunch. Annie had just been to Supply Sergeant, and she told us that Teresa was talking to a customer and another customer came up and said, “Do you carry duffels?” The walls of the store are lined to the ceiling with duffels, and Teresa, without changing expression, still talking to the first customer, lifted one arm and pointed at the wall behind her.

“Do you have any large ones?”

Still without looking at the interrupter, she lifted the other arm and pointed behind her at the larger duffels. Annie stood up in the restaurant and did an imitation of her. Very cool stuff.

I love to see Teresa in the store because she never smiles at the customers. She’s fast, polite, knows everything, but she’s not friendly. But when I come in and she sees me her face lights up. “My little Pork!” she says.

*

Teresa told me that yesterday this guy came into the store, and he had a huge booger hanging out of his nose.

“Picture a pencil eraser,” said Teresa, “Only not exactly that shape. And bigger. And a different texture.”

“So, Baby, how was it like a pencil eraser?”

“I’m just trying to give you an idea of the mass. I was just looking at him, and looking at him, and the big old thing’s just hanging there, and then I did something else, and the next time I looked at him, it was gone. So then I’m looking around the store. Where did he put it? And Mark came up to me and said, ‘Did you see that guy? I was up on the ladder, and I could see it from there.'”

They never found it.

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