a stains story

This story actually begins in March of this year, when los muchachos (the Nica friends I went to church with) were out to lunch together having a post-trip-to-the-Atlantic-Coast reunion. It was a crowded day at Mi Ranchito (as the place was called), and suddenly a waiter with a tray full of glasses bumped into a customer while passing by our table, and bright orange soda spilled all over my hair and my clothes.

Normally, this would have been an annoyance, but nothing to cry about. Except that I was wearing a hand-embroidered blouse I had bought in Mexico a few months earlier. A one of a kind shirt. One of my prized memories of that trip. Within seconds I rushed to the bathroom, took off the shirt and soaked it in the sink, hoping to keep the orange liquid from setting permanently in the fabric. A couple of my girlfriends followed me into the bathroom out of solidarity, and one of them (Yaoska) offered me the brown tank top she was wearing so that I wouldn't have to put my soaking wet shirt back on. (She was wearing another shirt as well.) This was sweet but sort of funny since Yaoska (pictured with me above) is like a size 4, one of the most petite girls I know. But she was like, no worries, it stretches. So I put it on, and sure enough it fit just fine.

Back in the dining area, I arrived at the table sourfaced and even a bit desconsolate. But one of my friends' moms who was present with us offered to take my shirt home with her to try to get the stain (still VERY orange) out. "I have sons," she explained. "I am an expert at stain removal." Skeptical but grateful, I handed her the shirt, which sure enough a week later she returned to me in perfect condition. As if nothing had ever happened. Meanwhile, Yaoska told me I should keep her shirt "as a way to remember" the experience. I smiled, and sheepishly agreed (she probably thought I had permanently altered her tanktop anyway, so....)

This all came back to me today because I was wearing that same brown tank top on my way to Austin today. I was very excited because I had managed to take a large travel mug full of coffee with me all the way to Austin and back, but as I was making the last turn into my neighborhood...well, I forgot about it, and turned too sharply, and sure enough the last of the coffee and a few grains came pouring out onto the passenger seat. I immediately dumped some bottled water on it, and when I got back to the apartment, sprayed Shout all over it, soaked it, and tried to sop up the stain-filled liquid. I failed to calculate adequately, however the amount of paper towels required for this task, and feeling too lazy to go back upstairs to get more, I took my tank top off instead and used it to sop up the rest. Then I ran quickly back upstairs to rinse it out before the coffee had a chance to set in Yaoska's shirt.

Back in the car, my laptop in tow in a hand-embroided bag given to me from another Nica friend, I threw it on the passenger seat on top of some papers I had placed there, thinking that would be adequate protection. No such luck. The remaining liquid seeped right through the paper and onto the cream colored bag.

Thankfully, this time the handsoap in the coffeeshop down the street and some warm water was enough to get that stain out. :-)