Days of Our Lives

Like sands through an hourglass........
Yes, we'll fess up. We love a soapie as well as the next girl. Days of Our Lives. The lot. We even had a brief addiction to an Argentinian soapie (or was it Mexican - steak or tamales?) called Rosa de Lejos which was replete with the usual fingernail-biting endings, long sighs, male heros who have a chromosome at least questionable and sudden deaths as one or the other actor arrives drunk on set and has to be written out.
But nothing we have seen on the small screen could have prepared us for the great Wetherby's saga.
In our last episode.
Wetherby's, devotees of this blog will recall, is the child of Mrs Wetherby, aka Alejandra Jumanya. Mrs Wetherby is an excellent person who creates absolutely stunning and colorful dresses. She gives away a freebie every day (to those who've passed the IQ test necessary to get to them - customer friendly easy techs are not Mrs W's forte - see previous posts) and the next day they go on sale at ridiculously low prices. Dresses are L$100, matching shoes and bags can be had for an embarrassingly low L$20. It's couture for the masses and Tessa is nothing if not mass.
The predictable result of this was a store mobbed by masses of gushing females, and more than a gushing few fake females. What tha! It's SL and you can attach or detach a dick at will. Tessa was of course among the gushingest of the gushers and accumulated a substantial wardrobe of dresses and matching accessories in bright primary colors.
Part of the success was that the whole thing was so unbusinesslike. Mrs W is more of a mother hen to her brood than a hard noser. She gushes along with the best of them, asks about how the prim baby is pregressing, and nothing really works like clockwork. An example:
"Let me start by saying sorry for the confusion. Call it construction confusion.
Todays dress is #216
We re named yesterdays dress #215"
Reminds me of the famous correction notice in the Jakarta Times that yesterday's date actually should have been today's. But it's endearing rather than irrtiating and we take it in our stride.
Which was why we weren't all that surprised when we tped into Wetherby's sim one morning to get our daily fix.
No. It wasn't Wetherby's. It was an Indian Reservation. (Shhh Tessa! You'll never learn! They're only Indian Reservations when the lawyers are putting the final touches to the gambling franchise. When it's deeply spiritual like this place it's a Native American shaman spirit wampum exchange).
Just a screw-up as usual? We walked outside. External darkness and gnashing of teeth. Nothing. Not even thundering herds of buffalo as you might expect from the Indian shop.
Then the notice came. It appears that Mrs W had a close and constant companion by the name of Ratshit Arsehole or something similar. No. Let me check. It was "Junkyarddog Yao". Personally Tess would have taken that as a Key Performance Indicator and sought affection elsewhere. But I digress.
It appears that there was a falling out between them which resulted in JYD Y taking his toys and stamping off. From the look of his store, stamping off took the form of a war dance. No smoking the pipe of peace here. One of the said toys was the Wetherby's store and sim. Need Tessa say more?
So Mrs W was left destitute and there was sore weeping amongst the fashionistas, both female and fake female, of SL
Tessa is ecstatic to be able to report to her AFs that sanity has been restored and the show is almost on the road again. Well done to all concerned! Mind you the somewhat singular attitude to informing customers persists. The ever-braying message board is, as usual, full of plaintive cries for a tp to the new store. I know it's a State Secret, but in the interests of avoiding assassination attempts I will give the Slurl below. Meanwhile on her first attempt to find the new store, Tess was as usual hopelessly lost and was forced to ford streams and perform other tasks which are impossible in less imiginative worlds. See fording pic above
Please tell us if you can't find Wetherby's at http://slurl.com/secondlife/5th%20Avenue/142/204/22