I went with Maggie and Will to the mall last Saturday. It was a chilly, rainy day so that meant 10,000 other people had the same idea.
I’m not really much of a mall person these days. A shopper? Oh yes, with my insecurities I’ll take some of that retail therapy, but my comfort zone has diminished to a few miles and the mall is a few miles past my few miles.
The mall is too much for me……..a sensory overload of baked potatoes, pretzels, piped in happy music and Seacret Spa and electronic cigarette stalkers.
We went to the new H & M and the place was packed. I found a sweater and it was exactly what I’ve been looking for. V-neck, oversized, weekend wear but the kids thought $25.00 was too much. You could get that at the thrift store for a whole lot less, they told me.
FYI, kids, I buy plenty at the thrift store, but ever since you two started popping tags you’re acting like you’re my mother, who by the way wouldn’t be caught dead in a thrift store.
I ignored them, sang some Hard For The Money and made my purchase.
Will had some guy things to do had to get away from us so Maggie and I went to Sephora which is kind of like taking a gambler to Harrah’s.
Sweet Jeezus, I love that place.
As soon as I walk in I see the potential for a whole new unwrinkled me with big eyelashes, perfect brows, pouty lips, striking cheekbones. When somebody hands me a cute, little Sephora basket and I place it over my arm, I instantly feel like Audrey Hepburn.
I tend to lose track of what I’m there for if you know what I’m saying.
The buzzy highs I get when I walk in the door start to feel like ringing in my ears at the register. I try to keep my voice from sounding shrill and shaky when the associate tells me the total. “How much did you say that was?” my inquiring mind asks. And when she repeats the same amount I say, “Ummmm, could you just tell me what each thing costs cuz I might have to put something back.”
Did I mention I am sweating?
Profusely.
She repeats the same number for the third time and then says, “Did you know you’ve reached 100 points and qualify for a gift?”
B. I. N. G. O.
Oh girl…………
Home alone opening my teeny, little black and white bag with my microscopic free gift wrapped in red tissue paper, the harsh reality sets in. I have done significant damage to my just deposited paycheck.
I pout.
With an awesome new lip liner.