While working my volunteer position putting books away on shelves at the library an older woman approaches me and blocks the aisle I’m in and asks:
“Excuse me but I have–well your going to think it’s a stupid question.”
She has a little osteoporosis in her back and neck and strains to look up at me. I note that she has the most remarkable blue eyes.
“Oh, no please don’t feel that way. It’s my pleasure to help you.”
She laughs, “No, you’re probably going to think it’s stupid.”
“I used to teach and as I always told my little ones: the only stupid question is the one left unasked.”
“Ok, but I really think I’m right on this but if you can help me I sure would appreciate it.”
“Go ahead and ask me?”
She steps in closer to me, pinning my back against the book shelf and lowers her voice: “Can you tell me the name of my bra?”
I blinked trying to understand the question thinking if might be the newest title of an Ann Wertz Garvin novel but in the time I was trying to make sense of the question she turned around and lifted up her blouse.
Okay, I think to myself, you win.