Deluded in the Suburbs

There was Yours Truly minding business.
Whose business, You don't even have to ask.
Mine own business.
As is my wont.
Age-old wont.

Having had brunch in the wizened and woody Roycroft with Annie, decided to take a sunny walk in the East Auroran neighborhood, and head up and over to the wacky Vidler's where one can find do-dads, toys, new things that look age-old, and things that are rather extinct but were in the purses of grandmothers. Like disposable rain helmets, as YT likes to call plastic rain bonnets of yore.

Before Vidler's we fell for an age-old lure for femmes, signage proclaiming a big sale on shoes.
Sixty percent.
Palpitations.
We did the expected and sensible thing and trundled into a shop that was one of those multi-layered and colorful shops that confuse men but make sense to ladies.
Hats, boots, shoes, more accessories, jewelry, signage, fluffy sofa to sit on, curling paths through displays that scream abundance and fun and fashion and party girl.

In the midst of all of this at first glance was a girl who seemed to fit into the scene, in ill-fitting bright pink wig, with cheap faux Ray Bans, in loose track suit over her less-than-lean body.
She was speaking, despite her young age, as if she were a partially-deaf and much older lady so that all in the festive and overly-festooned shoppe could hear it all.

Murmurings of Nikki Minaj, travel floated in the air and apparently the girl was living in the midst of a frustrating whirlwind. People could not be reached. She was on hold. On hold. Thirty more seconds of unavoidable overhearing revealed this young woman to be living in a delusion, a self-produced reality television show.

The harried woman running the shoppe for her boss came up to me when she noted my facial expression, recognizing an empathetic person in her midst. She's (eyes glancing over toward the MTV-ready monologue) been in here since I opened two hours ago, I can't get rid of her.

The delusional and pink-headed one claimed to be the lover of ultra-busty R&B lovely Nikki Minaj, meant perhaps for shock value in this town noted for its conservative mores. She was in this town stopping by, before going up to Niagara Falls (about 35 miles away) to pick up her stuff before jetting off to the Shiney Apple to help Nikki Minaj her lover shop for some clothes.

Make it big, baby, is what I always tell her, said the deluded girl. Then she asked the shopgirl for some papers upon which she could sign her autograph. She posed with two tweens who seemed confused or pleased or perhaps a little frightened of the girl in the pink hair. They were heard to be posing with Nikki's lover, and she asked them to put the image up on Facebook.

As we left the shoppe I glanced down at an autograph in-situ - it was on a scrap of a shopping bag and in one-inch black Sharpie letters I was able to read the word Love.

And later, after a sneezing fit in Vidler's, we passed her on the street as she was half-singing to herself. I asked Annie if we should pretend to recognize her and ask her for her autograph. As we chuckled as we passed she exclaimed Hey ladies keep on smiling, you are so beautiful - do you know how many people a day I make happy.

Delusional Love.