My husband swears that I am totally willing to throw myself under the bus for the sake of a good story. No matter how selfish, ignorant, trashy or cheap it makes me sound, if it’s a good story I will tell it. This one falls into the cheap category.
Whilst on vacation last week, I was keeping my eyes peeled for a new dress. I needed one to wear to a very chi chi fundraiser that we attended a few nights ago. I checked the sale racks at a couple of boutiques, suffered a mild case of sticker shock, and was ready to throw in the towel. Then my mom found this darling little shabby chic wrap marked down to $72.00. (Which is about what I was willing to spend on something new. See, I’m cheap.)
Anyway, it fits like a dream and is supercute, so I make my way to the register with my find. The er…sales girl? Sales Associate? Boutique Frou? The chick who rang me up was all, “OH MAH GAWD!! This is SOOOOOOOOOOOOOO on sale.” Don’t get me wrong, I am a proud bargain shopper. I consider finding a cool dress on super sale to be worthy of public praise, but she was like hyperventilating. I nodded and said politely, “Yes, it’s a great price.”
And her face literally fell. I mean, it was clear that this woman did not think I was grasping the gravity of the situation at hand. “No,” she said, “I mean, like this is TOTALLY on sale. Stella Forrest is a really fancy French designer.” So important she is lavished with adjectives like, “fancy”. What was I thinking? So I nodded and smiled again, this time sharing my attention between the fashion maven behind the cash register and the much shorter one pulling at my shorts. And then there was this pause. You could even say it was a pregnant pause. And when I looked up into that woman’s eyes it hit me that she was debating not letting me have that dress. My blasé attitude had proved me unworthy. She looked downright scary.
So I faked a retail orgasm, packed up my dress and made for the door.
I wore it to the fundraiser on Thursday night and was the best dressed cheapskate in the room. Yea me.