I went to a flea market on Saturday, and I wore a green jacket. You can see me wearing said green jacket and holding some marked-down Fiesta Ware:
(This flea market is right outside Cincinnati, and it's called Trader's World. It is the craziest place I've ever been. It is both awesome and awful at the same time. Photos here.)
I went with my friend Scott and we stopped at a booth selling old records, books, 8-tracks and the like. The guy and girl working there were fabulously indie, and while we were looking at some cds the guy came over and pointed to the girl. "She probably doesn't have the guts to tell you, but she really digs your jacket." I said thanks and told her I'd had it forever, and couldn't even remember where I'd gotten it. That led to us talking to her for about 15 minutes about the music we listen to and movies we love. She loves The White Stripes and Heath Ledger in 10 Things I Hate About You. I totally wanted to be her friend, and go see a foreign film with her, and make her go shopping with me, and listen to our music really loud in the car and go buy albums on vinyl.
Except, not the shopping part. Because she absolutely looked the part--down to her pierced nose--and I was jealous. Because, okay, confession time: I know exactly where this jacket came from.