Searching For Ugly

I was pretty sure this was the place.

Behind the coffee shop, and around the corner from the tattoo studio,
it was small and indiscrete.
Had it been dark out, I would have easily missed it.
I pulled into the alley, between the short row of red, brick buildings,
and parked the car.

And, I am not sure if it was the way that I was dressed,
or the desperate and determined look in my eyes . . . BUT,
as he appeared from the back room, he seemed to know exactly what I came for.

He showed me his stash.

“This is IT?” I asked.

“Everybody wants some,” he said, shrugging his shoulders.

I stood back and looked at his goods, assessing the size, the quality, and the shape.

“Do you have anything  . . . uglier?” I asked.

“The ugliest are the first to go,” he responded.
“We have uglier ones coming in next week.”

“Okay,” I said.  “I will come back then.”

With a nod and half a smile, he returned to the back room.
As I exited through the door, the sign dangled to and fro.

WE HAVE UGLY CHRISTMAS SWEATERS.

 

 

 

 

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