Divan hammock

I watched her walking through the parking lot. Determined steps. Slowly but inevitably getting closer.

She entered the patio furniture sales corner. She had a black tailored coat, pink skirt, a tone deeper pink Burberry scarf and lipstick same colour. She wore petite lovely shoes. She was one walking adult-sized doll.

She came directly to me. I was laying in a monsterous thing called divan hammock. Husband was around the corner making bargains with a very green salesclerk. (He used arguments like ‘this is my first real job’, ‘please use financing because I get provision of that’,  ’I really need to do some sales today!’  He could be my son! I couldn’t dicker an euro! I let my steel hearted lover to do that. ) 

She was not glancing the polyrattan sofa sets neither patio dining sets. ‘What’ I thought, ‘does this alive barbie want this divin hammock?!’

'Are you the clerk here?' she asked. I gasped. Wearing a leather jacket, jeans and laying in that thing, was I the clerk?

'No, I am not. He is around the corner.'

She went there. Because my horizontal position was disturbed, I jumped up and joined husband.

'Are you in queue?' she asked.

'Yes I am, I just cruelly jumped you' I thought.

'No I am not, waiting for my lover' I said.

'Your husband' husband said.

He paid, undersigned, was ready to go.

'Buy that divan, it is divine! ' I whispered to her knowing hammocking was not the thing to Burberry princesses. They sit preppy in deck chairs. She stared at me, not answering.

Sometimes the worlds just do not match.