I had to turn on the heat.
Yes, it was freezing cold here in the store. Enough that I heard a small child- in the middle of playing- say "Mommy, my nose is cold". Ok, ok- I get the hint. Not too many people are aware that our "heat" is a crazy old gas powered blower that is situated directly over my head in my office. No one knows that I fear for my life the first few times it comes on.
Flashback four years ago: We had a lovely man from Public Utilities come in to light the pilot light. Everything is going well- it's dusty, but that's too be expected. He's on a small step ladder under the blower, lighting the pilot. His face is practically IN the heater. He says, "Okay, turn her on." I obey and gasp in horror as the first cloud of gas ignites and takes off his eyebrows. Never again will anyone turn on the blower without the bottom plate being closed!
So that is my fear. I like my eyebrows a bit too much. At least we sell some fake ones- I could always be an angry Scotsman til they grow back...
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