Aphasia and an invisible zipper

The complete lack of sunshine last week turned me into a babbling idiot. To illustrate: I went to the indie store to get an invisible zipper. It's been a couple months since I've been there and I couldn't remember the name of it so I couldn't look up driving directions online. And my husband wasn't answering his work phone. OK, I figured I could do this on my own and find the place, after all, I'd been there and should be able to recognize it, right? Hmm, first I took the wrong exit from the traffic circle (they love those traffic circles here) but didn't go back because (a) I couldn't find a good place for a U-turn, and (b) I was in the right town anyway so maybe I could just wing it. I followed a car in front of me, not that I had a reason to think its driver was going where I needed to go, and finally made it to a street I recognized. I parked our "huge" Monte Carlo in one of those little parking spots that are probably made for the Smart car and went up the street to the store. Two blocks later, I realized I was walking in the wrong direction. Sheesh! Why did I even bother getting out of bed? Soooo, I reversed my steps and went back past the trusty Monte and two blocks down the street, into the store. The name, by the way, is Wagner. Like I'm really going to remember that - I mean, really, call it Lilly's Stitches or Uma's Fabrics and Yarns, or something more creative than your last name, but I digress.

I walked into the store, said "guten morgen" and headed straight to the zippers. Not an invisible zipper in sight. And the lady asks, very nicely, in German, if she can be of any help. Sure, she could, except I am not very verbal today, what with having a miserable un-sunny day yet again. She asks what I'm looking for. Not a word comes to my mind... Out of my mouth - "argh!" So I try again - this time, it's "aaaaargh!" By now I have a pretty good idea how post-CVA patients with expressive aphasia feel when they try to communicate with us. Meanwhile, the lady is giving me a very concerned look. Imagine a young woman, dressed to the nines, walking into your store, saying "aaargh!" and you get the picture.
Finally, a word formed in my head and my mouth made a sound: "unversichtbar!" (this with the most horrible accent you can imagine). The lady looks at me and asks "unsichtbar?" Yes, that's it, that's how you say invisible, nevermind that I couldn't come up with the rest of the sentence. I just nodded. She shows me a transparent zipper and explains that because it's transparent, it will not be visible. It's not an invisible zipper, the kind with teeth on the inside, but I couldn't have explained that even in English right then, let alone in German, so I just paid for it and left the store. (I only made one wrong turn on the way home.)

Here is a picture of it - it's an interesting idea but I think I'll try Karstadt this week, maybe they'll have a real invisible zipper. This one will forever serve as a reminder that on nonverbal days, I should stay at home.