I went to the store and bought lady fingers, when I got home I noticed one of the fingers was missing so I went back to the store and the manager was nice enough to give me the finger.
A man will never love you or treat you as well as a store. If a man doesn't fit, you can't exchange him seven days later for a gorgeous cashmere sweater. And a store always smells good. A store can awaken a lust for things you never even knew you needed. And when your fingers first grasp those shiny, new bags...
The lady across the hall tried to rob a department store . . . with a pricing gun. She said, "Give me all of the money in the vault, or I'm marking down everything in the store."
You don't necessarily know you're consuming sugar when you're using store-bought salad dressing, or store-bought tomato sauce, or healthy granola bars. It's added to all these foods.
My bookshelves have no order. I prune them regularly and sell the books to Myopic Books, a Chicago bookstore. They give me store credit, and then I spend all the store credit, and, presumably, return to sell them back more of the books I bought from them.
I ain't learn everything yet at 95. But I got good fingers, that's one thing, I got good fingers. If it weren't for them fingers I wouldn't be going now.
I got fired from my first job in a store when I was a student because I kept wearing my own things, and people kept asking me where they were from, and the owner of the store got annoyed with me. So I got fired because I couldn't afford to buy the clothes from the store.
About 15 years ago I went though a period of a year or so when I just couldn't find anything good. My wife noticed I was having trouble reading menus. I bought some cheap reading glasses in a drug store. I got home and suddenly all these books that weren't good were good.
?When you point your finger at someone, anyone, it is often a moment of judgement. We point our fingers when we want to scold someone, point out what they have done wrong. But each time we point, we simultaneously point three fingers back at ourselves.
Years ago, I was asked to come up to do a store signing in Vermont. The short version is the two younger guys who own the store pick me up at the airport and start driving me around Vermont, showing me the sights and the textile mills and the restaurants, and the punchline is there's no store. There is no store!
When I was growing up skateboarding, a bunch of friends and I went to this thrift store and as we were leaving I jumped up and passed gas in my friend's face. I turned around and it wasn't my friend, it was this nice old lady who was just walking out of the store. That was probably one of the more awkward apologies I've had to make in my life.
When you point your finger 'cause your plan fell through You got three more fingers pointing back at you!
And what? Accidentally cuts off three fingers postmortem? 'Oops, oh, no, my girlfriend just died! Clumsy me, in trying to perform CPR, I chopped off some fingers! Guess I'll just take them with me.... Oh, darn, where did that middle finger go?
When I was at college, I worked in a department store called Brit Home Stores, which is a pretty lackluster department store, selling clothes for middle-aged women. My job was to walk the floor and find anything that was damaged, take it to the store room and log it.
I shoplifted. I was about five years old, and I took a candy from a store. We paid for three of them, but I took four, and I went home and cried. My mom took me back, and I paid for the missing piece.
Our look evolved from the fact that we bought thrift-store clothes. It wasn't like, 'Let adopt a thrift-store aesthetic.' We just didn't have any money.
I like my house to be unique to me. Sure, I've bought plenty of things out of a catalog, but the way I put them together in my home is special. You might have bought your sofa at a major home decorating store, but the rug you found at the flea market is so unique, it takes your room from 'carbon copy' to 'simply yours' in no time.