Thursday, May 3, 2012

The hooker coat.

Yes, you read that right. This is about a hooker coat.

A few years ago (on my way south in the middle of winter) I stopped off on the way to the Ferry in Johnsonville - desperately in need of a long winter coat - preferably with a hood.
Much to my delight I found one... pure joy! Long enough to cover my frozen knees, had a hood, even a nice style... and the best bit... it was in my favorite shade of bright but light blue. (If it had been in orange or yellow I would've been ecstatic.)

So, coat bought. Happy trip south. It could get as cold as it liked, I didn't care. I had my lovely bright blue coat.

(Action Man hates it, The Boy Wonder hates it... neither are fond of my delight in bright colors. Too bad, it's mine. I'm all about color.)

Roll forward a few months.

You know how when you live somewhere long enough you get to know what everyone's deal is?

I've lived here quite a while - I pretty much know everyone, if not to talk to, then by sight and usually what their deal is. Because everyone knows someone and word gets around.
For example... I'm the thriller writer who is nuts about Greyhounds. I can't walk down the street without someone yelling out, "Hi Cat, how's the writing going?"  or "Hey Cat, where's your dog?" - on those odd occasions (like today) when I leave Romeo at home. (Not because of the cold, but because I have done something to my neck/shoulder this morning, God knows what!!)

You get the picture.

Imagine my horror when I looked out the window, because a flash of blue caught my eye, one day and saw the local hooker wearing MY BLUE COAT. I raced upstairs to find my coat in the closest.
Then the realization dawned. Oh dear lord. I had a hooker coat!
But wait it's worse than that... this chick is rail thin with blonde hair and is completely toothless.
I have a toothless hooker coat.
(Action Man and The Boy Wonder were thrilled when I announced I couldn't possibly wear a HOOKER coat.)

So, the coat hung in my closest. I looked at it every now and then... fond memories of being snuggly and warm on cold winters days wafted through my mind.
Then last winter it snowed.
Fuck this I thought. I'm getting out Big Blue. I wore my blue coat in the snow. There were lots of double-takes from people I came across. That's right folks... I'm not the toothless hooker from down the road. For starters she's a blonde. I'm not.
I found the whole experience uncomfortable.

Today, it was cold. The coldest morning so far this year.
I considered my ski jacket... but that leaves the issue of frozen knees. Yes, thermals would probably fix that problem but as I was already dressed. I opted for Big Blue.

Thinking I could pull it off if I just sucked it up and walked to school with the kids, no one would pay any attention. Plus, the hooker in question is never out in the morning.
The fucking coat is BRIGHT BLUE. The local hooker has the exact same coat. And for added effect I'm a blonde again.
What was I thinking?

The coat has gotta go or be dyed.

I can't be that chick.

In happier days the coat was seen online... a photo of me reading "Freezing Point" by Karen Dionne on the steps of the old parliament buildings (now part of Victoria University Law School) as part of Karen's virtual book tour.





I just saw the date stamp on that photo! 2008. Crikey!!







I don't know if it's good or bad that I can hear Mike laughing.

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