For those of you who have raised children, you know that I am not exaggerating when I say that glitter is the herpes of your kids’ craft supplies.
For about a decade, I regularly found glitter on my face and stuck to odd parts of my body. And, if truth be told, I have passed glitter into our county’s solid waste stream.
So today I was starting some new demolition work at our new building and was concerned, nay – alarmed, to find some of the countertops painted purple with gold glitter. Then, as I was pulling up the fake plastic floor at the front of the storefront, I found that the antique heating registers were also glitter-studded.
I came home tonight and checked myself for glitter, pawing through my furry bits like I was looking for ticks.
So far, I’m clean.
But as I was removing the black curtains from under the bar, I encountered a bad omen. A disco ball – the ovary of the glitter world. It’s ours. Unless you come and claim it.
— Christopher Schwarz