Have you ever yearned for something your whole life, even something a little silly?
I never wanted a car, diamonds or a mink coat, I wanted a swan. One of those old New England decoys you see in antique shops and yard sales, if you’re lucky.
My new place has a deck. Well, that’s what I call it since you step dramatically down into the living room as if you were debarking a ship. I always feel I should be wearing a long, flowing dress cinched at the waist like Loretta Young whenever I descend or occasionally trip.
I decided a swan, perched to welcome you at the sweep of the turn, would be nice going on a search. Forget buying one in New York, you’d have to take out a loan as I soon found out. Originals are off the charts expensive even with a crack here and there, but are oh, so beautiful.
I go online on a vast cyber hunt. Let me just say there are pros and cons to this. First off, there are too many choices, like in a Greek diner where you can’t make up your mind whether to have eggs, moussaka, or the Chilean sea bass.
Swan shopping is no different.
Hundreds came up finally settling for a beauty on Amazon since I have Visa points. Plus, she was on sale. See, if I was a true seasoned consumer, this would have been a red flag, but no, all I thought was, oh goody, for once I’ll save a few bucks.
Like anything fragile…your face, China or repros of decoys, don’t go the cheap route.
I’m amazed how fast it arrived in a box the size of Montana. I will say they wrapped her like Cleopatra floating down the Nile with enough bubble wrap to last till Christmas, 2018. I’m thrilled when I see her, so lovely, her long neck dipped coyly as if she’s too shy to say hello. Everything about her appeared perfect so what does any, anal, arrogant thin girl do under the circumstances? She throws the box away.
When I get up neurotically at midnight to post an essay no one is reading, I turn to admire her thinking I’m hallucinating seeing something similar to goose poop in the shady light. I had just Swiffed before going to bed, realizing she’s now chipping. Whatever they used to glaze or paint, was peeling off.
Is that why she was on sale?
I was beside myself.
Now this means, unless I’m totally demented, she needs to go back. I look at her like a daughter caught with her pants down. “What do have to say for yourself young lady?”
I then think, well, she does look more authentic with her tail half off so should I keep her, figuring the trip from Jersey just tarted her up a bit? Yes, she cost 50 dollars to mail when they could have put her on the path train for three bucks.
My friend Joan is coming over for a meeting, so the jury is still out because you must remember…I THREW OUT THE BOX.
This means I’ll have to go to Staples and do it myself. Yes, they will pay for postage after you download their special sticker, but she’s not exactly petite and I’m no first-class packer by any means.
I’ve been crying so hard I look Asian. I know, if I think about the suicide bombing at a Starbucks in Jakarta plus the thought of Donald Trump as our 45th president if you count Grover Cleveland twice, the only one to serve two non-consecutive terms, my swan song turns into a show tune.
She’s heading back to Jersey since, I can’t possibly live with a swan with the heartbreak of psoriasis. It’s just too sad.