My dear husband was lucky enough to get a cheap ticket with friends to the Yankees vs. Redsox game Saturday, so I smartly (as any wifey would) used that as leverage for my own alone time on Sunday.
Since I wore the same five shirts all winter last year, I am in need of a fresh set of five. (It’s true. Look at Flickr images from November through March and you will see the same floral patterned black waffle shirt about 80 times. It was obviously my favorite of the five.)
What else does an upstanding housewife in the burbs do with her spur of the moment alone time? Get a quick pedicure and head to the mall of course. As if it could be anything else.
I hit the usual suspects but didn’t find much and then ended up at French Connection. I was in a ruffled mood due to all the rude NJ women I had to fight through to try on clothes, so I was delighted when the 92 lb. gay sales associate complimented me on my “wellies”. I dare say that he would have retracted his comment had he known that they were merely L.L. Bean boots and not Hunters, but I enjoyed it nonetheless.
(An example of the sheer rudeness of the above mentioned New Jersey shoppers: I arrived at a packed dressing room only to find that all the rooms were taken. The sales woman told me and a woman that arrived after me in line that she would take us to the other side of the store in case they had free rooms over there. The other shopper ran to get ahead of me to beat me to the next dressing room. I guess she thought it was a foot race. But, no luck, that dressing room was filled, too. So the sales woman, brought us back assuring us that something would open up in the original location. Wouldn’t you know, the other shopper raced me again. But, I arrived first so I stood in the doorway ahead of her. Then she decided to advance into the dressing room. I was laughing inside ready for her to start touching the dressing room doors to say that she claimed them first. Maybe she would say she had started paying rent on them last month. Sure enough a room opened a few minutes later and this shopper gathered her things to take into the room until I spoke up to say, “Actually, I was here first. You know, when I got to this dressing room first and then you came later behind me.”
Her response? Her response? “I guess that is true.” She knew. She knew. She wasn’t even trying to play oblivious. No, “Oh, I’m sorry, go ahead.” Nothing. And, this is for J.c.r.e.w. It’s chinos, t-shirts and cardigans people.)
stinkerbean 