Like a long lost friend...[REVISED]

I was sitting here, minding my own business (literally!), planning for an August trip to Bahstahn* when, as I rummaged through assorted websites I ran across a factoid that left me stunned with glee:

LouLou's Lost & Found is not dead. Two (three?) trips ago, I was ambling down Newbury St. with the Not Deformed Poppy when I saw the premises for LouLou's held a completely different business. I assumed the very worst and dripping with disappointment, all I could muster was a purchase at a vintage bookstore.

But LouLou lives! Looky: Loulou's Lost & Found 0 Brattle St - Cambridge, MA. Just a short hop on, I'm guessing, the Red (appropriate for something that provides service to Cantabridgians, yes?) Line and I am there. Woo hoo.

The thing about LouLou's is that it is THE hippest, coolest antique/thrift shop in the known universe. A long time ago, I foolishly** passed up a chance to pick up--dirt cheap, no less--a full set of Disneyland plates made in the late 1950s by Limoges. The gold was still intact and not one piece was chipped. I think each place setting (bread plate, salad plate, dessert plate, large and small bowls and dinner plate) was something along the lines of $8.99. In my own defense, I was younger then (by 6-7 years) and, by definition, immeasurably less wise.


* Which might not take place until, I think, October; mostly because my wife has seemingly roped me into a charity event where I might have to do work I don't want to do, with people I don't wish to see, at a date when I had planned to be elsewhere, held at a place I'm not eager to see filled with said people. Don't ask. This has me pretty pissy.

** I'm not so big on regret, so this statement actually carries more weight than you might otherwise think it would.


Poppy Buxom said…
Wait a minute. Does this mean the Jokes aren't coming to visit the Poppies in August, thereby allowing other people whom we like far less to visit instead?

Um ... so ... anyone out there up for a trip to New Hampshire?

Joke said…
Take it up with your husband's girlfriend. Even if this hadn't/doesn't mangle planned trips to New England, there is precious little less pleasant in life than being roped into doing something you actively dislike and having to pretend you aren't hating every damned fucking nanosecond of it.

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