Popping by Unannounced

You may have seen my social media post this week that said do not give me your address.  There's quite a joyful story involved with that!

We have a follower by the name of Ms. Ellen Binder who has shopped with us for several years.  She and her best friend Ms. Faye would come to the store and sometimes stay an hour or more, telling stories, having me model clothes for them, trying on clothing, and simply just enjoying our company.  Little did they know, we enjoyed the visit just as much!

Ellen moved a couple of years ago or so, and we miss her presence.  She does watch our live videos, shops on our website (livingthecurvylife.com), and if she is visiting Georgia, she tries her best to stop by Curvy Market for a wardrobe refresh and some hugs.

Jeannie and I have served Ellen and Faye for so long, and just recently talked about taking a roadtrip and surprising Ellen one day in South Carolina.  Remember, she orders online, so I have her address.

Last weekend, I took a road trip with my friend to South Carolina on a whim.  Before going, I thought of googling the distance between our destination and Ellen's home, out of curiosity.  18 miles.  That's how long the road was between us.

So on Saturday of last weekend, I found myself in a very small town with a cute downtown, sitting in the driveway of my friend's house.  I was sitting there because on our first "driveby" - and by driveby, I mean she literally lives on the main road of the town so I had to drive by her house regardless - her car was in the yard.  A snack at Zaxby's and 15 mins later, the car was no longer at home and I was stressing!

I tried calling her.  No answer.  Uh, oh. Did she leave her phone at home?  If so, how would I ever find her in this town? Do I wait in her drive until she and her husband return?  Do I abort mission and leave this small town?

I was a determined girl.  I called her again, and this time, she answered.

I was able to inquire about some pants she ordered from us and ask enough general questions to find out she was indeed home, that her husband had left for an errand.   So off I go to her front door, knocking and ringing doorbell.

Keep in mind she has NO IDEA I am at her house.

Dogs go nuts at the door.  Barking, barking.  I wait.   No answer.

I ring the bell again and knock harder.

Dogs try to eat me through the door, with their barks screaming stranger danger, stranger danger.  Still, no answer.

It didn't take me long to realize - she's not going to answer the door. She's home alone.  In her mid 70's.  Has mobility limitations.  And now there's an unexpected knock.  Nope.  She's not gonna answer the door.  (And she's not wrong!)

Giving up the surprise, I make one more call to her.  She answers, and I say:
"Ms. Ellen.  If someone was going to visit you at your home, would they come to the front door or the backdoor?
"The front door," she said.
"Then open the front door, woman, as I am standing on your front porch!"

If only I could describe from there.  Door opens.  Tears flow.  Arms embrace.  More than once hugs were given.  Laughter and joy fill the room.   And that's how I enjoyed my favorite hour of Saturday.

It should be known - my friend was invited in and he met Ellen.  Now he understands why I wanted to see her.  David came home quickly when he learned I was there, and he too joined our visiting.  And I am not sure who's heart was the happiest - mine or Ellen's.