Vito and I had been gardening all day. Since nothing looked interesting in the fridge, I volunteered to pop over to Trader Joes. Since he’s been back from Italy, he has no interest in pasta or anything in tomato sauce. I didn’t bother to change, after all, I was just running to the neighborhood market. I guess my jeans and sweater were a bit shoddy. I might have had a bit of dirt on my face and hands. One thing was different about my hands…I wasn’t wearing the big glitteries I normally do. Anyway, who do I have to impress at the grocery store? The fun part of Trader Joes is that in the back, you can get a small cup of excellent coffee and a little sample. So, I made a bee line for the big silver coffee pot and made myself a cup. Then, I went over for a sample of a little square of cake and a raspberry. I waited and waited, after everyone had their sample, I asked if I could have one, too. The lady gave me an up and down look and a sneer. I asked again..I could tell she didn’t want to give me a tiny cup with the little treat. Finally she pushed it towards me like I was a disgusting piece of crap.  She pushed it at my me so hard that the tiny frozen berry bounced out of the cup and on the floor. People standing around were shocked and I was humiliated. I knew what that look was…They thought I was a street person..I started crying and ran out. I’m sensitive…I haven’t been back since. Of course, there  was a little comfort in that I ran to the plush leather seats of my gorgeous blue Jaguar. The nicest car in the parking lot.

Its my fear…To be homeless. To be unloved. In my own little town, where I grew up and never left. Wherever I go, there are people I grew up with. I raised Marc and Michael here. I love this town. This is my town. But, at that moment, I was an outsider. There were no childhood friends there, none of my dear neighbors, just strangers looking down their noses at me. Oh, this can be a cruel, snobbish place. This is where the Silicon Valley big shots live…I can’t imagine what it would be like to spend every day being treated like that.

I told Michael, last night, “If I am ever homeless, I’ll buy a lot of huge fake diamonds, so people won’t know I’m homeless.” My brilliant son thought it would be better if I bought food. I have been thinking about this ever since it happened. I assume that its because of the nice people and polite society that I am always treated so well. Now I wonder if its the fact that I wear lovely clothes and gorgeous jewelry that I am treated well. I am the same person, scruffy from my garden or dressed and bejeweled. I drive the same care, carry a stack of Vitos money. Its still me…

My good friend Bill took me to an amazing estate sale. He likes old military stuff and I go after the jewelry. We don’t step on each others toes. I bought some wonderful pieces. Some I will put in my ebay store, some on my website and most (sorry Vito) I am keeping. There were quite a few vintage Elsa Peretti pieces. Two gorgeous old Peretti flasks. One was particularly interesting to me. Its exactly the like the ones that are signed Tiffany & Co Peretti, but this huge old flask just has EP on the handle. Its been worn, but what a find! Very 70’s.

I have heard of this happening, but it really hurt when it happened to me. A seller on ebay had a listing for a beautiful Peretti Starfish necklace. I bid on it and won. While I was waiting for it to be delivered, I got an email from a lady who has a fantastic Tiffany collection. She had also bid on the Peretti Starfish necklace. The seller emailed her with a second chance offer, claiming that I never paid for the item and offering it to her. My friend, Lisa, knew something was fishy..excuse the pun. She emailed me and we figured out this seller had duplicates. Sure enough, when they arrived, they were the worse fakes I’ve ever seen. I actually think they were painted plastic. I took plenty of pictures…We both emailed this seller, who by this time sold a third copy…She advertises an authentic Tiffany necklace. Shows the real thing in her listing, then delivers a copy. Well, all the fakes were returned, but she told us that we wouldn’t get a refund until AFTER she received a positive feedback. The third lady actually left a positive feedback. Lisa and I blew the whistle. We filed enough complaints with paypal and ebay that the seller got kicked off ebay. Only problem, no refunds..I would rather give up the refund then agree to be blackmailed. At ebay can focus their energies on a real scam artist rather then the honest sellers. Blackmail is really tacky…