I did decide to get new windshield wipers. I can't say there was any specific triggering incident, just a vague feeling that I wasn't getting as much windshield wiping as I might, particularly with the ongoing assault of tiny bits of flowers which leap onto my car as if it were a two-ton stamen (or whatever part it is flower pollen wants). As traditional I went to Pep Boys, since I've successfully bought windshield wipers from them in the past so why should I ever want to change, plus they offer free service so that I would not have to repeat the embarrassing performance of attempting to change the wipers myself. It's been embarrassing in the past. Really.
When I did pull into the parking lot I sat a while waiting for the track in my audio book (Rex Stout's Before Midnight, yet another Nero Wolfe mystery; read well, but for me the voice of Nero Wolfe is that of the 1950 radio show, Sydney Greenstreet, and wasn't that perfect casting?) to finish, since my plug-in CD player doesn't remember locations and the index pad I use to store which track I should start from isn't flexible enough to cover down to minutes and seconds into the track. A guy came out of the store and got into the car next to mine, a circa 1988 Grey Ugly Boxy Car of the sort that was so popular then because in 1983 computer-aided drafting programs weren't very good. He held up a small, gold-colored box and said to me, ``Haven't seen one of these in a while, have you?''
Somehow I wasn't expecting to be told anything, and I had to have his question repeated. No, indeed, I didn't know what it was; my best guess was a cassette adaptor, like I have, so that CD players could plug into pre-1999 car audio systems. He cackled at my obliviousness, and opened it up to show it was a money clip. I grinned and nodded, trying to not look scared, and he waved and drove off. I'm fairly certain this was not a dream.
I found the windshield wipers suitable for my car, and while the first cashier I went to said she was closed and directed me to a second who was only sort of near her cash register (and then left, saying goodnight to all; after I said to have a good weekend she came back to get a bottle of water she'd left behind, and then, she said, left for real). The new cashier didn't ask if I wanted windshield wiper installation service, and I was too shy to ask for it, so I just had to change the blades myself, which I did in the K-Mart parking lot so it wouldn't look like I was hoping they'd do it for me.
Trivia: The first article purporting to see the Indian Rope Trick presented the information as derived from the eyewitness reports of Fred S Ellmore, a Chicagoan, and George Lessing, a friend. Source: The Rise Of The Indian Rope Trick, Peter Lamont.
Currently Reading: Why Buildings Stand Up: The Strength Of Architecture, Mario Salvadori.