A lot of women like to shop.
I'm not one of them.
I've mentioned before, I'm sorely lacking in the girly-genes department – which translates to the fact I'm also lacking in the girly jeans department.
Most of the time I only shop if I really (desperately?) need something and then I rush in, buy it, and rush right out of the mall again as fast as possible. If I can buy something online, I will.
I don't like crowds. I don't like trying stuff on. I don't like pushy sales people … or worse yet, stores without sufficient staff to take care of their customers.
Basically, I'm an anti-social, non-shopping, hermit.
Maybe I'm even a tom-boy-ish hermit?
The holidays have arrived, however, and I already find myself needing to shop.
I think the whole situation is made worse by the fact I'm surrounded by Money Town women who live to shop. The women here dress up to go to the mall. (!)
Shopping is a career!
I like to ruffle their feathers by going to the mall dressed as grungy as possible. I laugh when I see their shocked faces as I stroll through Neiman's or Sak's or Nordstrom's.
The Money Town women appraise each other with a "once over" as they pass each other at the mall. The once over serves the purpose of evaluating 1) The other woman's sense of style 2) The other woman's wealth 3) The skill of the other woman's plastic surgeon.
You think I'm kidding?
When they can't figure out your net worth, the Money Town women check out the size of the diamond you're wearing Every.Friggin.Time. I suppose a woman without a big ass wedding ring is nothing but a waste of their time?
Sales people also evaluate the women walking into the stores. Are you worth their time? Do you look like you can afford to shop there? Of course, I can't really blame the sales people. They're trying to gauge the most profitable use of their time.
The Money Town women don't have the same motives. They're just bitches.
Why are they bitches?
It's not because they have oogles of money.
Bitchiness is just the attitude the women in Money Town choose to wear.
All this leads up to my trip to the mall last weekend.
I woke up Saturday morning, wrapped my hair in a towel, and showered without washing it. After my shower I threw on a pair of baggy workout capris which might happen to have a permanent stain on one leg. (I swear, I didn't notice the stain until later in the day!) I grabbed a long sleeve t-shirt I've owned for several years to cover my bionic nipples.
Although, as you may recall, there is never really any way to cover my bionic nipples.
I wore my workout sneakers to complete my outfit. They're beat to hell. I brushed my teeth and ran a brush through my tangled tresses. A quick coat of mascara completed my look. I was exceedingly comfortable.
Yes, I looked like crap. I'll be honest and admit 1) I didn't care in the least, and 2) I thought it was kind of funny that I was so slobbed out and going to the Money Town mall.
How dare I?
Well, as you can imagine, the Money Town women were aghast. Clearly I did not belong at their mall. I must have mistakenly stopped there on my way to the Goodwill Store which, by the way, is up the freeway several miles. (If you've never been? There are some great finds at Goodwill stores – although, it's still shopping and I hate to shop.)
I didn't even attempt to count the number of disapproving looks I got as I made my way through the Money Town mall.
Eventually I made it to my favorite department store. I don't shop often, but when I do I usually wind up there. Also? When I do shop – I'm there to buy, not peruse the merchandise.
I noticed a new, unfamiliar, sales lady glance my way. She gave me the once over. She moved on to help another customer without acknowledging me. I might have smiled just a little bit. I knew what I came to purchase; I didn't need her help. I got busy. I wouldn't want to spend more time shopping than I have to, after all.
Right then I was accosted by an extremely, rude, bitchy, Money Town woman. She literally tried to grab a shirt I was holding out of my hands. (And it wasn't even Black Friday when I'd, almost, expect that type of behavior!)
We had an *encounter*.
I would need an entirely different blog post to cover all the details, but suffice it to say she was an example of everything I hate about Money Town women.
Also? I won.
I did not let go of that shirt.
Too bad bitch!
I looked up to see one of the sales ladies smiling at me. She'd just witnessed the entire scene. She's helped me before. She knows I may show up looking like hell, but if I'm there – I'm there to buy. She also knows I'm nice to her and treat her with respect. She, in turn, is always happy to see me and treats me with respect also, regardless of what I'm wearing.
Guess who makes commissions off of my purchases?
Soon, I was ready to pay and leave.
The sales lady who had dismissed me earlier looked on in surprise at the large pile of crap gifts I was purchasing from the much nicer sales lady.
As Nice Sales Lady was ringing up my purchases, the same, bitchy, Money Town woman I'd had the "incident" with earlier, came up and tried to interrupt my transaction three separate times! She was rude, she was demanding, and she was trying damn hard to get the sales lady to leave me mid-purchase to go help her.
The nice sales lady tried to be polite to the rude, obnoxious, Money Town woman. By the third, tackless interruption, however … she lost her patience and snapped at the bitch. The look of shock on the Money Town woman's face was priceless. I don't think she could fathom a sales lady not jumping at her every whim. (Especially for the likes of me.)
It was then I noticed something surprising about the Money Town woman. One strap from her designer purse (a Birkin!) had fallen off her shoulder and her purse sagged open. There, in clear view, was a half eaten sandwich just sitting in her purse. It wasn't wrapped up, it wasn't in a sandwich bag, or a "doggy bag" from a restaurant … it had just been tossed into her obscenely expensive handbag.
Some things money can't buy. Class is one of them.
© Twenty Four At Heart