Accidental Makeover

I had places to go; things to do; people to see. I needed placemats, blue ones, for Christmas dinner, and I had just a little over an hour to find and buy them before heading to a casual luncheon with my friends from water aerobics.

Having already looked in likely places, I headed to the mall. Dillards, to be exact. I went in through the parking garage entrance, up the escalator, and smack dab into the middle of the cosmetics department.

Had I gone up one more floor on the escalator or taken the elevator and pushed two, I’d have learned in short order that Dillards had no suitable placemats. I could’ve then turned around and headed to Macy’s.

But, no. I was in cosmetics and remembered I was almost out of foundation. Might as well get it while I’m here, I thought.

And that, ladies and gentlemen, but mostly ladies, is how I ended up getting a full-blown makeover that took a good ten minutes to take off when I got ready for bed this evening.

I kind of looked glamorous for a few short hours, but I prefer my no-hassle “dab and go” routine. No matter the occasion, I’m ready in fifteen minutes or less.

But I didn’t say that to the adorable young woman who carefully primed and brushed and blended and tsked. No, I nodded and smiled and plopped down my hard-earned money for the products she was selling because she treated me like a queen.

There’s a lesson in there: Always take the elevator.

Comedic Timing

We were shopping for Studly Doright a sports jacket at Dillard’s a couple of nights ago. He found one fairly quickly and as we were leaving the men’s department he said, “Well, now I need you to help me find a gift for a girl I used to date.”

I did a double take, and my mind quickly scrolled through all the girls he’d ever dated. Before I could express outrage he said, “She’s kind of hard to buy for, and her birthday’s on the 5th.”

Only then did I realize he was talking about me. I slugged him. Gently.

Peace, people.

Making Friends

I might’ve found a friend today in the handbag department at Dillard’s. She moved to Tallahassee a year to the day before I did. If that’s not the basis for a good friendship I don’t know what is.

 

We bonded over this Frye bag. Good heavens the woman has good taste!
 
Peace, people.

A Trying Experience

I’ve been shopping for clothes. I swear my waist size expands two inches every time I step inside the dressing room door. In my mind, I’m the same size I was in high school: Twiggy thin with terrific, long, shapely legs.

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However, the Dillard’s dressing room mirror indicates I’m now more akin to Humpty Dumpty with thighs that have migrated south, puddling just below my knees.

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The things that fit make me feel like a frumpy old matron instead of the hot broad I am inside. But if I dress to please that broad, I end up looking like a ten dollar hooker.

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After two hours of shopping, sweating, and cussing, I bought one item–an unsweetened iced tea at McAlister’s. It fit perfectly.

Peace, people!

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