Today I had a conference for work downtown, about a block from the mall. Naturally, I had to go check out the big sales Emy has been telling me about and stimulate the economy a little bit:D
Well, I had been there for a few hours and had the routine down: check out the sales; look at clothes til your arm gets tired, you can't hold anymore, or they offer to start you a fitting room; head to the fitting room; greet the attendant; politely say thanks for showing you to a room; try the crap on; give back 90%; etc. Well I had been at H&M for a while trying to find some dresses to go with my boots and was ready to head back to the fitting rooms for round two. As a result, I knew they didn't count your items there, so I proceeded as usual.
I walked into the entry and there was a lady standing there where they fold and hang clothes. We made eye contact and I smiled and she just turned down the aisle toward the last free fitting room. Obviously she was tired at the end of the day so I didn't hold her lack of enthusiasm against her. She turned and looked at me as if to say, "Is this room okay?", but of course didn't actually say that. I just smiled again signifying that I was accepting her offering of this fitting room. She looked at me again, I smiled, and then she entered the fitting room to proceed with the usual routine of checking for clothes left by other people before relinquishing the room over to my care.
"SLAM!!"
She went into the fitting room and shut the door!!
"What just happened?" I thought. "Oh...my...gosh. She doesn't work here! She just happened to be standing in the wrong place at the wrong time." I quickly realized that her lack of enthusiasm was actually a mix of confusion and hesitation toward the woman awkwardly smiling at her and following her to her dressing room!! I was that creep!! I immediately turned and proceeded in the opposite direction, to the adjacent row of fitting rooms on the other side of the attendant area. I tried to put this little incident behind me and enjoy the fabulousness of the dresses.
But of course, when I finished in the fitting room guess who walked out right in front of me?! HER! And she looked me in the eye, again, (haven't we done this enough tonight lady?) and I could almost taste her look of disgust. She whispered something to her boyfriend, but he never turned back. I'm sure it was something like, "Don't look now, but the lady who kept looking at me and grinning is right behind us. Probably following me again." They of course walked straight to the register, my destination, so I diverted my path and pretended not to be done so as to never look her in the eye again. Ever.
What a creep! That's the last time I assume the trendy looking woman standing on the little X marked "fitting room attendant" is actually an employee!!
So my plea: If you ever encounter a nice, docile, friendly woman following you around in the fitting room smiling, cut her some slack and just take it as a compliment, you look trendy.
Showing posts with label fashion. Show all posts
Showing posts with label fashion. Show all posts
3.12.2009
3.11.2009
Date in Hell?...
...Date in Sprawlville!
Andrew received an Olive Garden gift card for Valentine's Day from his parents so we decided to go out for dinner. We looked up the nearest Olive Garden and it was in Attleboro, Massachusetts. No problem, that's only 7 miles away. Interestingly we'd been wanting to go to Attleboro. A friend from church works there and was telling us how terrible the town was. If he was using reverse psychology on us, it worked. We felt so intrigued to see this awful place that we planned on it even before the OG excursion. In fact, we went out to eat while it was light out just so we could see the town. Pathetic, I know.
Well, we had been trying to spend money wisely and we hadn't gone out too much since Andrew's been in town, so we were really excited for this outing. We got all dressed up for our fancy date and headed out on the town. Well, town quickly turned into townie. We soon realized that Attleboro was so sprawled that OG was 3.5 miles from the town center (a big deal when you're expecting a small town). After a few wrong turns, some impolite words, and 20 minutes of irritation, we arrived in the downtown. It was cute, but dying. Traditional, historic storefronts occupied by less than desirable businesses. We drove around in circles for a few minutes and then headed back out to OG for dinner. Not much of a looker. We came, we saw, we went.
We pulled up toward the restaurant and realized that we had to turn onto the opposite side of the street to get to the restaurant. (The little sign is on the other side of the road telling you to go the opposite direction than seems logical to get to the parking lot with the big sign!)
The intersection was so convoluted that they forced you to enter a large parking lot on the left, use the outside lane like a service road, turn left under the highway and pull into the parking on your left...three lefts, aka, what would have equaled a right turn into the lot in the first place except it wasn't allowed. There was no entrance. And to make things crazier there were no stop lights on the main street, no no, they are all in the parking lot. What?! I have to stop at a light next to my parking space?!
Notice that mess of intersections that look more like something you see in the L.A. highway system? That's the parking lot traffic structure! What on earth are all those lanes for?! Really, Mr. Developer, are there that many Saturday morning shoppers in this town? The population is just over 40,000...what do you think, they all shop at the same time?!
View Larger Map
By this point we're absolutely floored by the desolate suburban conditions we're in and we've kicked into psycho urban planner mode complaining about suburbia, blaming the developer for the parking lot fiasco, cursing the city for the entrance dilemma, you get the drift....two planners on a rampage.
Well, when we get done laughing at how horrible our experience had been thus far we notice that not only are we in the world's largest parking lot, but that we're in the world's largest parking lot and way over dressed. We watch people in gym clothes, basketball shorts, cut off jean shorts with combat boots, sweatpants, you name it, walk into OG. We're not trying to judge what the other people are wearing, we're mostly feeling really awkward, overdressed, and out of place. We'll never pass as townies. They'll know we're outsiders the minute we step inside the Italian mecca. Well, we didn't drive all the way there to shrink back with our tails between our legs, so we go in. First, we can't find anything we want on the menu, next our waiter mistakes the salad for soup and gives us about 2 cups of dressing on our bottomless bowl of salad, and then we experience the saddest "Happy Birthday" singing we've ever seen at a restaurant. Usually waiters and waitresses at least pretend to be happy for you, sing, smile, fake well wishes....these people didn't even try. 
Full, but thoroughly disappointed, we drag our overdressed behinds back home. No offense Attleboro, but you stink. Thanks for the gift card though, Mr. and Mrs. P.!!
Andrew received an Olive Garden gift card for Valentine's Day from his parents so we decided to go out for dinner. We looked up the nearest Olive Garden and it was in Attleboro, Massachusetts. No problem, that's only 7 miles away. Interestingly we'd been wanting to go to Attleboro. A friend from church works there and was telling us how terrible the town was. If he was using reverse psychology on us, it worked. We felt so intrigued to see this awful place that we planned on it even before the OG excursion. In fact, we went out to eat while it was light out just so we could see the town. Pathetic, I know.
Well, we had been trying to spend money wisely and we hadn't gone out too much since Andrew's been in town, so we were really excited for this outing. We got all dressed up for our fancy date and headed out on the town. Well, town quickly turned into townie. We soon realized that Attleboro was so sprawled that OG was 3.5 miles from the town center (a big deal when you're expecting a small town). After a few wrong turns, some impolite words, and 20 minutes of irritation, we arrived in the downtown. It was cute, but dying. Traditional, historic storefronts occupied by less than desirable businesses. We drove around in circles for a few minutes and then headed back out to OG for dinner. Not much of a looker. We came, we saw, we went.
We pulled up toward the restaurant and realized that we had to turn onto the opposite side of the street to get to the restaurant. (The little sign is on the other side of the road telling you to go the opposite direction than seems logical to get to the parking lot with the big sign!)
The intersection was so convoluted that they forced you to enter a large parking lot on the left, use the outside lane like a service road, turn left under the highway and pull into the parking on your left...three lefts, aka, what would have equaled a right turn into the lot in the first place except it wasn't allowed. There was no entrance. And to make things crazier there were no stop lights on the main street, no no, they are all in the parking lot. What?! I have to stop at a light next to my parking space?!
Notice that mess of intersections that look more like something you see in the L.A. highway system? That's the parking lot traffic structure! What on earth are all those lanes for?! Really, Mr. Developer, are there that many Saturday morning shoppers in this town? The population is just over 40,000...what do you think, they all shop at the same time?!
View Larger Map
By this point we're absolutely floored by the desolate suburban conditions we're in and we've kicked into psycho urban planner mode complaining about suburbia, blaming the developer for the parking lot fiasco, cursing the city for the entrance dilemma, you get the drift....two planners on a rampage.
Well, when we get done laughing at how horrible our experience had been thus far we notice that not only are we in the world's largest parking lot, but that we're in the world's largest parking lot and way over dressed. We watch people in gym clothes, basketball shorts, cut off jean shorts with combat boots, sweatpants, you name it, walk into OG. We're not trying to judge what the other people are wearing, we're mostly feeling really awkward, overdressed, and out of place. We'll never pass as townies. They'll know we're outsiders the minute we step inside the Italian mecca. Well, we didn't drive all the way there to shrink back with our tails between our legs, so we go in. First, we can't find anything we want on the menu, next our waiter mistakes the salad for soup and gives us about 2 cups of dressing on our bottomless bowl of salad, and then we experience the saddest "Happy Birthday" singing we've ever seen at a restaurant. Usually waiters and waitresses at least pretend to be happy for you, sing, smile, fake well wishes....these people didn't even try. 
Full, but thoroughly disappointed, we drag our overdressed behinds back home. No offense Attleboro, but you stink. Thanks for the gift card though, Mr. and Mrs. P.!!
11.24.2008
Winter Vests= Great Invention
There are many many great things about winter and there is no doubt that I will address lots of them over the next few months on here. Today, we'll start with just one: Layering.
Layering is a tool that is supposed to be used to ensure warmth outside while providing comfort indoors through removable layers that can be shed to prevent sweating to death. Unfortunately, I abuse the art of layering to fuel my tendency to be lazy and unkempt. For example, today, I tried on a collared button-up dress shirt under a v-neck sweater. Deciding that the outfit didn't match and the Mr. Rogers' impersonation was less than attractive, I decided not to wear it. Well, rather than starting over, I just put a vest on top of it, zipped it up and pretended the mismatching button-up wasn't under there. So, yes, I'm wearing a horribly ugly outfit right now, but I'm masking it with a vest so my co-workers are completely oblivious to the disaster lurking beneath.
Note to you southerners who hate-on turtlenecks and vests, we need them up here:)
So when I say "vest" stop picturing the teacher vest and start picturing the winter vest:
Layering is a tool that is supposed to be used to ensure warmth outside while providing comfort indoors through removable layers that can be shed to prevent sweating to death. Unfortunately, I abuse the art of layering to fuel my tendency to be lazy and unkempt. For example, today, I tried on a collared button-up dress shirt under a v-neck sweater. Deciding that the outfit didn't match and the Mr. Rogers' impersonation was less than attractive, I decided not to wear it. Well, rather than starting over, I just put a vest on top of it, zipped it up and pretended the mismatching button-up wasn't under there. So, yes, I'm wearing a horribly ugly outfit right now, but I'm masking it with a vest so my co-workers are completely oblivious to the disaster lurking beneath.
Note to you southerners who hate-on turtlenecks and vests, we need them up here:)
So when I say "vest" stop picturing the teacher vest and start picturing the winter vest:
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