Happiness. It's relative.
Q: That’s some hat.
A: Thanks. My husband bought it for me in Baltimore. He makes me wear it once a year.
Q: Makes you? How does he do that?
A: Well, he doesn’t force me or anything. He just looks all sad when I tell him I can’t wear it because it makes me look like a train conductor.
Q: I don’t know about the train conductor thing but it is kind of an odd pick for someone your age, if you know what I mean.
A: Well, I agree it’s an odd pick but mostly because the cap sits up high like the ones from the feed company that farmers wear. I guess they pluck them up like that to get some ventilation while they’re mowing that hay. Who knows.
Q: Well, you’re kind of an old broad so I guess it doesn’t really matter what you wear as long as you’re happy.
A: Really? Well, what would make me really happy is to find my fishnet stockings from 1972 and that leather skirt. Oh, don’t blush, Little Q, all of us old broads have salty pasts. It’s part of our immense mystique.
Q: I guess I never thought about that.
A: That’s okay. I usually don’t like to think about it either. There was a lot of muss and fuss that went along with the fishnets, if you know what I mean.
Q: Oh geez.
A: Don’t worry. I’ll stop there. I like your jacket by the way. Very nice looking.
I love the hat! Not many women can pull off the train conductor look.
Sometimes I miss the muss and fuss. Despite what Q says and what you think, I like the hat.