On a Friday morning in late February, I fell in love. I swear, it was an accident. I was supposed to go to the gym, but the weather was sunny and warm. How could I do the stairmaster in a windowless gym when squirrels were frolicking in the sunshine? I ditched the gym and took a walk in my neighborhood instead.
About five blocks from my house, I walked by an estate sale. I did not have my wallet or any cash, but I decided to pop inside. As I walked inside, I nearly turned around. I was not going to find any treasure at this estate sale.
Then, I looked across the living room and I could practically hear the twang of Cupid's arrow:
A green vintage typewriter.
Heart be still! I walked over, pretending I was not interested. I assumed that, upon closer inspection, she would be a piece of crap. Instead, as I approached the typewriter, I fell irrevocably in love. Seriously, how could anyone resist this beauty's charms:
Green in my favorite color, and I love typewriters. In fact, I already owned two vintage models, so I guess that makes me a collector of sorts. But a green typewriter? That just seems too wonderful to be true.
I quietly inquired as to Remy's price. $50. I know I should have negotiated, but I immediately agreed to pay $50 if the nice lady in charge of the estate sale would hold the typewriter for 10 minutes.
Then I ran. I hate running, but when true love is at stake, you run. It was like the climatic scene in a romantic comedy, where the hero is running after the heroine in a train station so he can declare his love for her. Except it was me, puffing my way home, so I could get my wallet and buy the most beautiful typewriter in the world.
My typewriter collection is now officially complete. Partly because no other typewriter will ever compare to my green Remington, but mostly because holy crap, typewriters take up a lot of space. If I buy another one, we'll have to get rid of something substantial, like the couch. And I know Nathan loves me, but if I replaced his leather couch with a typewriter, he would go bat shit crazy. Seriously. He would actually grow bat wings and fly away.
But this typewriter will always have a place in our home. I am still trying to decide where to display it. I think that with a proper tune-up, it will actually work again. But even if it never types another letter again, I will still love it forever. That's true love!