My favourite colour is purple.
When I was a kid I defied the rules and coloured everything in purple.
“Pumpkins are orange Kimberly.”
“Fuck you grade one teacher. This bitch is purple.”
I never said that.
One Christmas, my weird multimillionaire Aunt bought my sister leather purple pants. I still don’t know how she can live with herself after purchasing clothing that selfishly took the lives of 50 innocent cows just to make a pocket. They were so huge you could upholster an entire car and still have some leather left over to make a skirt for Kim Kardashian.
Even through its hideousness, I could see potential in them. I envisioned stuffing it and putting it in my living room of my “big girl” house. I also wanted to be a Chinese waitress.
Then I grew up and realized that it wasn’t such a good idea to be a Chinese waitress because I wasn’t Chinese and a couch with legs was kind of weird.
So I decided to make my bridesmaids wear purple instead.
I sure did.
I even told them that they would look beautiful at any event like funerals.
That’s always an awkward event to dress for.
I have funeral pants.
They have permanent creases where they were folded over the hanger. Sometimes they have dust on them.
(I take comfort in that because it means that people I love don’t die that often.)
They are black with tiny purple pinstripes.
Are pinstripes in style?
And I’m guessing that purple pants aren’t either.
The lady in front of me at the cash register didn’t get that memo.
If you’re going to rock purple pants, you should not throw down 12 cases of cat food on the conveyor belt and pretend that it’s acceptable to own cats.
I like dogs.
And grumpy cat because he’s awesome.
The story gets better.
She had a stack of coupons.
Now, I love coupons. I use them when I go shopping in the United States of America.
Once I saved $9.45.
It paid for my right eyebrow to get waxed.
In Canada, coupons aren’t that popular. Why? I don’t know.
We do get coupons for commemorative plates.
In case you were into that sort of thing.
If you are, that’s creepy.
So there I was, reflecting on my admiration of the colour purple and how it touched my life in a positive way (unlike my one boyfriend who just didn’t get where “it” was) when purple pants cat food eater, started questioning the cashier about her ability to scan coupons. She asked her to manually type in the codes.
An hour later, which was probably more like 4 minutes in reality, purple nurple feline lover gets her bill and the cashier starts ringing up my crap.
But purple fur didn’t move her cases into her cart as she went over her bill.
I started to get angry because my tampon box was now touching her pussy cans.
“Can you move please?” I said softly.
“I can’t see my savings on this bill. Where are my savings?”
“Can you move please?” I repeated.
“I can’t see them. I had a lot of coupons.”
“Can you move please?”
“I can’t afford to be paying this amount on cat food.”
“Then you shouldn’t have this many fucking cats.”
I wanted to say.
Anyways the point of this story, is that when I picked up Chunky from school he said:
“Momma, Alexis flushed her watch in the toilet! It was so funny. We killed the toilet.”
“So you killed the toilet with Alexis?”
“What? No. Alexis killed it. With her purple watch. That’s her favourite colour.”
And that’s when I heard my grade one teacher cackle.
“Fuck you Kimberly. That pumpkin should have been orange.”