You all had some pretty dire suggestions as to the reason that the cobbler kept my boots for three months, putting me off every time I asked after them. “He doesn’t have them,” seemed to be the popular conclusion.
I brought in the boots in early July. Now it’s late September.
Being scrappy is my jam. I don’t call myself frugal because that to me entails sacrifice and I don’t adhere to the mantra of the miser, nor would I call myself a “shopaholic” because that entails frivolity and a lack of control.
If you want to try to track down your misplaced possessions, try the Unclaimed Baggage Center in Scottsboro, Alabama. Just make sure to bring your wallet.
A woman opens up the world’s first professional (and platonic) cuddling parlor. It’s in Portland, of course.