I have discovered the joys of resale.  Pay attention…I said resale not retail.  I was taking some things to my daughter at her place of work the other day, and on the way I saw a dress hanging outside a little house that had a sign out front that said Century Butterfly.  A big open sign was shining from the window.  Now it was about 5:00 in the evening and I didn’t have time to stop right then so I told myself that after I took Pookie her things if the store was still open and the dress fit I was buying it.  As luck would have it I drove back by and the cheerful little open sign was still beaming from the window and the dress was beckoning.  I pulled in. 

The building was a quaint little house that looked like it was probably built in the 19th century.  It was made of stone, and the steps leaned to the left.  The cars parked outside were questionable.  One was an honest to God hippie van.  It looked like with a little work it could replace the Mystery Machine from Scooby Doo.  There was a Volvo that had seen more than its share of accidents, and what I think was an International Harvester, 4WD something that had been jacked up above my head.  Not being a car snob, I pulled in between the Mystery Machine and the Volvo, parked and went inside. 

I tottered up the crooked stairs and went inside.  It was a tiny little store.  Two men and two women were inside.  It was full of things that screamed “70’s!!!!”  I could easily pick out who was driving the Mystery Machine.  He was sleeping on a couch propped up against the back wall.   He had hair down to his shoulders and a full beard.  He was wearing a Jimmi Hendrix T-shirt, jeans that were definitely bell bottoms, and flip-flops.  He made some of the jewelry that was in the store.  The owner, I think, was also the owner of the Volvo.  He and his wife were behind the counter with their daughter, whom I would guess was somewhere around 1.  He was a little unkempt but not in a 70’s kind of way.  More in the manner of “I have a one year old.”  His hair was pulled back in a ponytail.  His jeans and T-shirt were pretty non-descript.  I didn’t see his footwear.  His wife was a lovely woman, with short hair and an exuberant personality.  She was so friendly you felt like she knew you from somewhere.  The fourth person in the store, and I’m guessing the driver of the IH 4WD was a dried up little prune of a woman.  She might weigh a buck ten and looked like indoor tanning was a personal hobby.  The leathered skin hung off her bones, and her dry blond hair looked like it was on its way to dreads.  She looked 70, but was probably closer to my age.  She also made jewelry for the store.  Anyway, I asked about the dress.  It was a fuchsia creation with embroidery all over it.  It looked like it definitely had some Mexican influence going on.  It didn’t have a size, but I couldn’t let it go.  I figured that if I couldn’t wear it my daughter could.  So after a little haggling I purchased the dress.  I also noticed they had an extensive collection of head scarves.  They had silk and cotton in colors that pretty much covered the whole spectrum.  I had been wanting to buy some scarves for my Aunt Lori who is going through chemo for lung cancer.  She has been wearing a wig but doesn’t like wearing it in the house.  I thought some pretty scarves might be just the thing.  I purchased four.  I was speaking to the female owner and we were talking.  She commented that people rarely buy head scarves any more.  I explained to her that they were for my Aunt who was going through chemo.  Her mother had survived cancer and she understood how sad it is when a woman loses her hair.  We talked for awhile, and then she did the most generous thing.  She started choosing scarves for my Aunt and put them in the bag. 

Here’s the thing…this wasn’t a shop I would normally go back to.  The style that they endorse is more my daughter’s than my own.  In addition, I have never been one to buy previously worn clothes.  I usually get those from relatives or friends for free.  However; this generous woman changed my mind.  Of course I will go back and shop the tiny little store with the jacked up cars, crazy stairs, and old hippies.  I will refer them to people who might be interested in things they provide.  The woman, with her heartfelt gesture, did more for the advertising of her shop than 1,000 ads could have ever done.  She connected with a customer.

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