Welcome to the Dollhouse / by Christina Osheim

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At a gas station outside of Fredericksburg to set up for my first adventure as a salesperson. Bizarre drive. At times felt like edward scissors hands, at times like I was headed towards bates motel, at times like the midwest, and at times deserted enough that i was 99% sure i could get away with peeing in public. I didnt stop ergo the gas station. Off to see jf the tables I built function as intended. I also really want a nap.

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If you like writing realism in a method actor manner you need to sign up as a vendor for an arts & crafts fair. Think of groupies. Except instead of following the stones they are following the craft show circuit. You get an rv some folding chairs an atlas and a 30 pack of coors light. The 100 hand made easter bunnys that look like you could get them as a blue plate special at kmart are just props.

A couple retires and goes "F#*$... Im stuck with you! " (in a house in which avocado green and orange and wood panelling will always be hip) so they join a group of swinger retiree craft show circuit groupies. Like baseball pitchers they have signals that signify whos boinking whom that evening. David Attenborough has tried to study them, but has been unable to decider the geriatric rosetta stone.

It will be fine. Its surreal. My work looks great and my tables didnt fall apart. But as my dinner was a bodos caesar and everything bagel i wont have to worry about interacting with anyone tomorrow as the garlic will drive even the vendors  out of the expo center.

And the sky tonight was gorgeous in cville. 

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