I asked the very nice lady at the laundromat today where I could get two skirts (that I found for super-cheap on the street) hemmed. Although she knew what I was looking for (more for my pantomime than my lexicon), she cheerfully helped me to create the correct phrase to ask for what I wanted in a timely and affordable manner. And, I think it worked. I will know after next Thursday. It wouldn’t usually take so long, she explained. But they are closed Monday through Wednesday for Christmas next week.
As I was standing in the doorway, noting where I’d need to return to — since I received no receipt and all she knew about me was that I had two unhinged skirts and that my name is Heather, a name she adhered to only one of the pieces of fabric with a tiny stripe (not even a whole strip) of masking tape — I realized that I’d passed this place numerous times after it had closed. I registered it more as dulceria (candy shop) than somewhere I might upgrade the deals I’d found.
shewhodaresnothing 