Can't seem to decide on a color for the cover of my book.
There are just too many colors. Here is a story from my book concerning black and white.
One Saturday
afternoon, Tom asked, “Will you pick me up a quart of white and a quart of
black outdoor paint when you are out shopping today? I want to paint the porch
railing and the posts.” I dropped everything and rushed to the store! I didn’t
even change my clothes or comb my hair. It was early spring, so I had to get
back quickly with that paint before those infamous birds started chirping and put
him under their spell.
When I arrived at
the hardware store, I looked up and down all the paint aisles and couldn’t find
the white or the black paint. I went over to the clerk who was mixing paint. He
was very busy. There were many customers waiting with their paint chips. I
patiently waited for a chance to ask him to point me in the direction of the
paint I needed. While I was waiting, I thought, “I’m so glad I’m not getting
paint that needs mixing. I have to get home with the paint before the mood
leaves Tom.”
Finally, the clerk
came near me and I said, “Excuse me, could you please point me in the direction
of the white outdoor paint. He said, “It has to be mixed.” I said, “No, I want
white paint.” He said, “It has to be mixed.” I said, “You mix white paint?” He
said, “Yes.” I said, “What about black?” He said, “It needs to be mixed also.”
So I got in the long line of people waiting to get their paint mixed wondering
how in the world they would mix white, and exactly what colors are used to make
it. As I watched him mix the colors of purple, turquoise, pink, and chartreuse,
I felt a little silly waiting for white and black. I was sure he was mistaken
and my paint was over on a shelf somewhere. The whole time I waited in line not
one person ordered white or black paint. The longer I waited in line, the more anxious
I got because I knew that Tom was doomed to fall under the spell of those
chirping birds any minute. I just had to get this paint home before that
happened. Finally it was my turn and the clerk said, “May I help you?” I said, “I
want a quart of white latex outdoor paint.” He asked, “What shade of white?” I
said, “White.” He said, “What shade of white?” I said, “Well, do you know white?
I want white!” He again asked, “What shade of white?” I said, “You know ‘off
white’ and ‘white’? Well, I want white!” He said, “Then you must want White White.”
I said, “Yes, I want white!” He left and got a can from a shelf and put it on a
computerized machine and pushed some buttons and waited a while. When the
machine stopped he brought me my mixed white paint to inspect—sure enough, it
was white. I said, “Okay.” He put the lid on and put it on another machine and
asked me if I wanted anything else I said, “I want a quart of black latex
outdoor paint.” So he asked, “What shade of black?” I said, “Black!” He said, “What
shade of black?” I said, “Black—just black plain black, black!” He said, “Black
is hard to mix. It’s difficult to get the right color mixture.” I said, “Just
black!” He left and got a can from a shelf again and put it on the computer
machine.
Before he pushed
the buttons to mix my black paint, he went over to the mixer and handed me my
white paint. As I started to put the quart of paint into my cart the lid flew
into the air and the White White paint splattered all over my hand, shoe, purse,
and the cart. I shouted to the clerk, “Yo! You must have made this White White paint
too bright bright because the lid flew off and the paint splattered everywhere!
He immediately got some cleaner and started to clean the floor and counter. I
said, “Ah, excuse me, but could I have some cleaner for my hand here?” He said,
“Oh.” After he cleaned the floor and counter and I cleaned myself, he mixed my
black paint and then another quart of White White paint. This experience was
definitely a conspiracy! Mixing white and black paint—I never heard of such a
thing!
When I finally got
home, I was surprised to see that Tom was still ready to paint the railing. He opened
the black quart of paint only to find that it was dark brown! He couldn’t use
it because it would clash with the black shutters and trim. So, I told Tom, “Start
painting the white posts while I take the paint and exchange it.” He said, “I
can’t paint the posts white until I paint the railing black.” I didn’t ask why
because I was not in the mood for Lally Logic. Then he said, “Besides, you can’t
take mixed paint back.” I said, “Watch me!” Now I was angry! I had already
spent more time on purchasing this paint than it would have taken Tom to paint
the whole porch. I could feel those birds watching Tom’s every move, and I knew
that they would start chirping their spell over him at any minute, so I had
only a short time to exchange the paint. Off I went. I went directly to the
service department. I was firm but polite when I explained the whole situation.
The lady simply took the dark brown paint and said, “Go to the paint department
and get your black paint and come back here for an even exchange.”
There was a
different person in the paint department, and when he asked, “What color do you
want?” a part of me expected him to point me in the direction of white and
black paint on the shelf when I said, “Black.” But he went to a shelf and took
off a can and put it on the computer and pushed some buttons and mixed the
black paint. While he was mixing my black paint, I glanced behind me and there
was a color sample section with all of the different shades of red, blue, green,
yellow, purple, and any color you could think of. I was shocked when I saw a
display of the shades of white! There were one hundred and forty-four shades of
white. I counted each and every one of them! I could not believe my eyes! No
wonder that man kept asking me what shade of white I wanted. The display had
been directly behind me and I hadn’t seen it. I never dreamed this many shades
of white existed. I hope I never get to the point where I need to ponder over
these one hundred and forty-four shades of white when I need more white paint.
If this is a conspiracy to confuse, it worked well, because I am definitely confused.
I finally got my black paint and started home. I
thought, “Will he still be in the mood to paint when I get home? It has taken me
four hours to get this quart of black paint. I pulled into the driveway and
there was no sign of Tom. As I got out of the car, I could hear the faint sound
of birds chirping, and, when I walked to the patio, there was Tom sleeping in
his lounge chair, and the birds were chirping in full melody. I knew he was
under their spell for the rest of the season, so I placed the paint on a shelf in
the garage for another year.
