“What’s your handle?” the queen asked.
“What do you mean, “handle?” I asked.
What nickname would you like on your t-shirt? The secret was out. This beautiful queen was printing t-shirts for our 30+ years reunion. The forum exploded. “Call me this, name me that, why not try this name?” We chattered on like parakeets at a party. Our t-shirts would be gorgeous.
Then they arrived. “What type of material is this? It feels like the kind used to make wetsuits.”
“The printers made all kinds of promises but delivered duds. Who will wear this?” We were disappointed.
Sheepishly, we crept out of our rooms sporting blue t-shirts. No one knew us in this town. Nobody will notice. “Let’s take photos for the uniform look and change into prettier tops.”
Everywhere we went, people took notice. They pointed at our shirts and wondered. “You’ve been friends for how long?” they asked. A little girl wanted a photo with us. We were celebrated. Our blue t-shirts made the day.
Just goes to show, one thinks trash, the other shouts, “TREASURE!”