At the Mall

We are on a quest.  A quest to find a pair of tights and a great pair of black boots.  Sounds easy?  Not so fast my friend, for these are costume accompaniments that have specific requirements.  When one is planning to be Sally Skellington from ‘A Nightmare Before Christmas’, one must look the part.  We ordered the dress, the hair,  the makeup, and the sleeves.  Oh yes, Abi will look great from the knees up!  But what of the legs and feet?  Well, just try finding tights that have faux stitches all over them and black boots that have the right size heel (no stilletos, not flat either), buckles, lace up the front, are comfortable and under $100.00 … Good luck my friend!  Seriously, we have been to every shoe store and costume shop without any luck!  AARRGGHH. 
So Sunday we set out to (once again), find those elusive tights and boots … this time it’s Fashion Place Mall.  Surely we will find just what we need at Fashion Place. 
Dustin and I go one way, Abi, Cydney and Alyssa another.  No sooner have we hit the linoleum when I am suddenly being slathered under the left eye with a "cream so incredible you will look years younger".  "Why should someone so beautiful have wrinkles that look so ugly?"  UM, well, apparently I have failed to realize that I am such an unsightly blight on society.  How dare I step out into the open with (gasp) wrinkley eyes! 
"And ma’am, what is your name?" Sandra.  "Oh Sandra.  A beautiful name for a beautiful lady with ugly wrinkles!"  "I am Mechele.  I will help you."  Gee Michelle, I… "No, no.  Mechele, it is Mee-shell…" Oh sorry, Mee-shell, I’m not interested.  "Oh but you must.  Give me your hand, I show you something."  apparently when he says give me your hand he doesn’t mean give me your hand because he has already latched onto said hand and is smearing sea salt all over hand and rubbing ever so nicely to eliminate all those unsightly dead cells that I apparently am sporting as well.  "Put your hand over this bowl"  to which he is now spraying a steady stream of water, soaking my sleeve in the process.  "Oh, you see?  You see that ugly water?  That is all the dead particles that are on your hand.  Now, I put this cream on you.  Oh, feel that.  Feel how very soft and smooth.  You see?  You see how you can look better already.  You see that your eye and your hand are so young now!"  "What you do for making money?"  I tell you, I GIVE this to you, because you are so beautiful, I GIVE this to you, this eye cream, for only one hundred twenty five dollars!  I look at you, I say, she deserves this cream.  She should have this cream, so I GIVE it to you for only one hundred twenty five.  Can you believe?"  No, I cannot believe.  I cannot believe that you would grab me, smear me and then hold up a MAGNIFIED MIRROR two inches from my ghastly wrinkled face and then tell me I cannot go on without your product.  I cannot believe that I feel obligated to stand here and be insulted by you because I don’t want to hurt your feelings by walking away.  I cannot believe that I am actually thinking that I just might have to buy the damn jar just so I can continue on my tight and boot quest.  Here he comes to save the day … enter Dustin (where the hell has he been?)  Come on Mom, you don’t need it.  Let’s go.  "This is your son?  Look son, look at your mom.  Which eye looks better?  you see which eye looks better already?"  No, they look the same to me.  They look just fine.  Bless him!  Okay, well, thanks.  I need to go.  "Sandra, Sandra.  I tell you.  I GIVE to you this eye cream, this second eye cream for free.  You need to buy this cream for your wrinkles."  MOM, Let’s go!  "Oh Sandra, this make-a me so sad to see you not want to buy this cream for your wrinkles.  Your hands, so much dryness.  Oh!"  MOM!  Ok, well thanks.  I will think about it.  walk-run, quickly away, while nagging in the back of the brain is the thought that I must be one ungodly looking prune-faced old lady and perhaps I should just shell over that moolah because Heaven knows I don’t want to continue subjecting the world to my unsightly, vomit-inducing, wrinkly face!  Up next … the Proactive kiosk … I think I need to go home now!
And by the way, NO, we did not find the tights or boots we were looking for.  The quest, and the public humility, continue. 

2 responses to “At the Mall

  1. hehehe that happened to me. some sales lady came up and started trying to do my hair. it was weird.

  2. Nice! I wonder what you would look like with long hair? Hmmmm.

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