OK, so my FIRST mistake . . .
. . . was even walking through the damn department store in the first place. I was on my way to the pharmacy in the mall across the street from my job to fill a prescription, so the most direct route is through the department store, but it's a lovely day - I could have walked outside. I should have walked outside.
My second mistake was deciding to walk by the sale rack, "just to check it out"; skipmagic and I made a pact this morning (after HE spent weeks and tons of money buying a slew of Halloween decorations, and I spent an equal amount of time and money buying fall clothing, which I justified by saying to myself, "well, skipmagic just bought a FOG MACHINE . . . ") to go on a "spending diet", so no clothing purchases for me this month! Which of course means that there it was - THE sweater. (Long story short, I bought the exact same sweater in pink a few weeks ago, and I LOVE IT. It is amazingly comfy and soft (it's cashmere!) and was on sooper-dooper-pooper sale (80% off, which made it 47 bucks - for cashmere!) and I love it very much. (Yes. Sometimes I do want to marry it. So there.) So I went back a couple of days later to see if they still had it in other colors . . . . Nothing left. I wasn't surprised. But then TODAY, I found ONE, hidden amongst the racks of flotsam, in RED.)
Pact-schmact. I NEEDED THIS SWEATER. (I'd skip my morning mochas and take sack lunches for a week, to make up for it, I told myself - nevermind the fact that I really should be doing that, anyway . . .).
Of course I tried it on first - it was a size larger than the one I'd already bought, so I wanted to make sure it would be as delicious as the other one - and of course it was. Unfortunately, it also seemed to be $95 instead of the $47 I'd paid for the other sweater. But upon closer inspection I saw that the $95 price sticker seemed to have had another price sticker OVER it at one time, as if it once had a $47 sticker on it that had been peeled off. So I figured maybe I'd luck out after all, and it would indeed turn out to be a $47 sweater.
My third mistake was not running like the wind when, upon exiting the dressing room, I was accosted by a salesperson I don't like.
(The tangential story on why I don't like the lady: I once found two adorable little kiddie Lacoste long-sleeved polo shirts there for $12 apiece (down from $70 apiece - and BTW who the hell spends $70 on a shirt for a child?), and she tried to gank them from me when I checked out! When I brought them to her register, she asked (in a tone tinged with both suspicion and envy) where I'd found them (once again amongst the flotsam on the womens' sale rack, go figure), and then asked whom they were for. When I told her I planned to send them to my sister's twins, she asked how old the twins were, and when I said, "Four," she informed me that these would not fit four-year old children. Before I could respond, she continued, "So I'll just go ahead and put these back for you," and began shoving them under the counter where she stood. I lunged for the red one and caught it by the sleeve just before it disappeared from my view, and said that I would buy them anyway - I have plenty of friends with small children, and besides - who could pass up such a bargain? She gave me a dirty look and rung them up. Plus she's just smarmy and mildly unfriendly and kinda skanky.)
I had seen her lurking around when I went into the dressing room, and had planned to seek out someone else to check me out, but there she was when I came out, and so I thought "What the hell, I'm in her 'section', and it's not like she insulted my mama or anything . . . " And besides, my favoritest, most darling salesperson of all (big shout-out to Mary Alice!) seemed to have the day off. So I told Skanky-Ganker that the sweater had "worked out" just fine, but I wanted to check the price.
"Isn't there a tag?" she asked, fishing around in the neck of the sweater and, finally, producing the $95 price sticker for my perusal.
My fourth mistake was explaining the situation to her - that I'd gotten the same sweater for $47, and that I was hoping that this one would be $47 as well, because if it were $95, I'd have to pass on it. She blipped it past the scanner at the register. "It's $95," she said curtly, with a smarmy little smirk. Only these registers don't have the little customer-facing window that tells you the salesperson isn't lying.
So my fifth mistake was taking her word and walking away, when in reality I don't trust her as far as I can throw her.
And of course, my sixth mistake is dedicating this much time and thought to something that, when it comes right down to it, came from a goat. But I had to get it off my chest. I feel better now.
My second mistake was deciding to walk by the sale rack, "just to check it out"; skipmagic and I made a pact this morning (after HE spent weeks and tons of money buying a slew of Halloween decorations, and I spent an equal amount of time and money buying fall clothing, which I justified by saying to myself, "well, skipmagic just bought a FOG MACHINE . . . ") to go on a "spending diet", so no clothing purchases for me this month! Which of course means that there it was - THE sweater. (Long story short, I bought the exact same sweater in pink a few weeks ago, and I LOVE IT. It is amazingly comfy and soft (it's cashmere!) and was on sooper-dooper-pooper sale (80% off, which made it 47 bucks - for cashmere!) and I love it very much. (Yes. Sometimes I do want to marry it. So there.) So I went back a couple of days later to see if they still had it in other colors . . . . Nothing left. I wasn't surprised. But then TODAY, I found ONE, hidden amongst the racks of flotsam, in RED.)
Pact-schmact. I NEEDED THIS SWEATER. (I'd skip my morning mochas and take sack lunches for a week, to make up for it, I told myself - nevermind the fact that I really should be doing that, anyway . . .).
Of course I tried it on first - it was a size larger than the one I'd already bought, so I wanted to make sure it would be as delicious as the other one - and of course it was. Unfortunately, it also seemed to be $95 instead of the $47 I'd paid for the other sweater. But upon closer inspection I saw that the $95 price sticker seemed to have had another price sticker OVER it at one time, as if it once had a $47 sticker on it that had been peeled off. So I figured maybe I'd luck out after all, and it would indeed turn out to be a $47 sweater.
My third mistake was not running like the wind when, upon exiting the dressing room, I was accosted by a salesperson I don't like.
(The tangential story on why I don't like the lady: I once found two adorable little kiddie Lacoste long-sleeved polo shirts there for $12 apiece (down from $70 apiece - and BTW who the hell spends $70 on a shirt for a child?), and she tried to gank them from me when I checked out! When I brought them to her register, she asked (in a tone tinged with both suspicion and envy) where I'd found them (once again amongst the flotsam on the womens' sale rack, go figure), and then asked whom they were for. When I told her I planned to send them to my sister's twins, she asked how old the twins were, and when I said, "Four," she informed me that these would not fit four-year old children. Before I could respond, she continued, "So I'll just go ahead and put these back for you," and began shoving them under the counter where she stood. I lunged for the red one and caught it by the sleeve just before it disappeared from my view, and said that I would buy them anyway - I have plenty of friends with small children, and besides - who could pass up such a bargain? She gave me a dirty look and rung them up. Plus she's just smarmy and mildly unfriendly and kinda skanky.)
I had seen her lurking around when I went into the dressing room, and had planned to seek out someone else to check me out, but there she was when I came out, and so I thought "What the hell, I'm in her 'section', and it's not like she insulted my mama or anything . . . " And besides, my favoritest, most darling salesperson of all (big shout-out to Mary Alice!) seemed to have the day off. So I told Skanky-Ganker that the sweater had "worked out" just fine, but I wanted to check the price.
"Isn't there a tag?" she asked, fishing around in the neck of the sweater and, finally, producing the $95 price sticker for my perusal.
My fourth mistake was explaining the situation to her - that I'd gotten the same sweater for $47, and that I was hoping that this one would be $47 as well, because if it were $95, I'd have to pass on it. She blipped it past the scanner at the register. "It's $95," she said curtly, with a smarmy little smirk. Only these registers don't have the little customer-facing window that tells you the salesperson isn't lying.
So my fifth mistake was taking her word and walking away, when in reality I don't trust her as far as I can throw her.
And of course, my sixth mistake is dedicating this much time and thought to something that, when it comes right down to it, came from a goat. But I had to get it off my chest. I feel better now.