Cultural Shoplifting

Disturbing and disconcerting, 
like saddles on cattle
or a rattlesnake rattle, 
her enthusiasm in the
early morning gloom 
of the medical center lobby, 
a large and slightly dark room,
put me in a pensive 
and slightly defensive frame of mind. 
The shirt was expensive.
“Nice Aloha shirt,” she 
shouted across the lobby,
which was populated by 
the lady, her daughter,
my wife and myself.
I said, “Thank you,” 
thinking she was referring 
to something much darker 
than my cream colored 
Tommy Bahama silk 
Hawaiian shirt.
I did not like that woman.
I did like the shirt.

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