I had been meaning to get up to Lorraine's in Pawtucket to try to get some more of an upholstery fabric that I didn't buy enough of in November. I just wanted to have a little extra on hand as insurance in the event of some unexpected upholstery disaster. When I got there, Marilyn was gone. "Is Marilyn around?" I asked, thinking she might be at lunch, though she never had been before. "No, she's been gone since right after Christmas," said the very nice woman occupying Marilyn's accustomed spot at the cutting table. "She retired."Everyone around began recalling Marilyn stories. No one seemed able to believe she'd retired at 77, after 29 years at Lorraine's.
She was a pistol, all right. Didn't suffer fools and could tell you from a 2-inch swatch where the bolt was it came from. Told one guy he'd gained weight and should lose it. Told me in November I should buy the rest of the bolt because I wouldn't see it again. Did I listen? No. And now the bolt was out of stock and so was Marilyn.
