Writer's Post: Mister Hats

If you're up at three a.m., you might catch a TV ad from the best hat shop in Memphis, Mister Hats. With its wide selection of quality products, it's easy to find what you want. The owner has even made sales from people who reach his store by dialing the wrong number. That is after a thirty minute chat!

However, what happens at Mister Hats typically stays at Mister Hats, so here's a rare peek into the hat business.

A customer asked, "What do you have here that’s on sale?"

"Everything is for sale!" Mr. Hats said. And it is. I bet he'd even sell his dictionary since he said, "This book's got a lot of words but no plot." 

On another occasion, a gentleman with a southern drawl asked for a hat with a confederate flag on it. He needed one because a police officer had taken his last one.

I wonder if losing his hat had any similarities to the customer who apologized for not being in for awhile due to having been incarcerated. He repeated his jail comment multiple times and then got excited when he saw cologne. "Don't worry," he said. "I'm not going to steal it."

  Check out Mister Hats!

 

113 S Highland St, Memphis, TN 38111
(901) 452-2099

Wordless Wednesday: School Pictures

I've torn my house apart trying to find that one preschool picture that best fits my humor blog, but it is lost. Judy was proud of her new pair of underwear; so, when the camera flashed, she flashed too. I guess posting that photo would not go with my blog's clean image anyway.

Here are a few goofy school pictures of my kids and me.

Erica is never fully dressed without a hat to show coolness.

They retook Judy's picture but gave us the original

I trimmed Daniel's mullet and put this photo in the paper.

My school picture from kindergarten.

Back From The Future

Hosted by Nicki, Suze, and M Pax.

I'm participating in the Back From the Future Blog Hop.

Here are my Instructions:

You're up before dawn on a Saturday when the doorbell rings. You haven't brewed your coffee so you wonder if you imagined the sound. Plonking the half-filled carafe in the sink, you go to the front door and cautiously swing it open. No one there. As you cast your eyes to the ground, you see a parcel addressed to you ... from you.

You scoop it up and haul it inside, sensing something legitimate despite the extreme oddness of the situation. Carefully, you pry it open. Inside is a shoebox -- sent from ten years in the future -- and it's filled with items you have sent yourself.

What's in it?

**∑´®ƒ¥¨ø**

As I look out the window, I spot my neighbor waving from her driveway and heading my way. I open the door to see what she wants.

"I met the future you looking for your house to deliver that package," she points, "but you forgot where you live," she says.

"Do I move in the future?" Not that it would matter since I've lived in my house for twenty-two years.

"No. You're just even more forgetful than you are now."

Great. I thank her, close the door, and open a Stinga shoe box, a future best selling brand that sports "kick me" across the heals. The box reveals a half eaten donut with teeth digging into it. Under the donut clutching teeth is one smiley-face sock with a purple note sticking out of the top.

I snatch the note for a quick read.

Dear Me,

     The 2013 economy is in a rut, so I've included something valuable to help you out. If you look closely at our teeth, you'll find gold fillings in the molars. As for the sock, I couldn't find the mate in 2023, so I figured I'd send it back to see if you have it.

Love,

Me

 

I take the teeth and start for the door, but I forget what I'm supposed to do with them.  Oh well. At least I still have half of a tasty donut. I take a bite only to remember that I stopped eating sugar years ago. Darn! I guess I should give up artificial sweeteners too.