Monday, August 15, 2016
Today I am grateful for a kind woman at Ross. Yes, I went back today for the Lamb-chop poncho. I just couldn’t take the pressure from so many of you telling me I was an idiot for not getting it, so I convinced Himself we needed to go to Ross in the course of our errands. Imagine how thrilled he was.
I march into Ross and go straight to the rack where the pink baby had been hanging the last two times I was there. GONE! I searched the entire rack, but as you can imagine it was pretty easy to spot this fuzz-ball. . .from a mile away. But it wasn’t there.
I searched the nearby racks because sometimes people plop things back where they don’t really belong. Not that I would EVER do that, but some people do. (ha-ha) Gone! Nowhere to be found. And so is Himself.
So I lumber around the store looking for him and happen past the fitting rooms. There in a cart crumpled like deflated pink balloon in the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade, lay the pinky-poncho thingy. With nothing else in the cart.
“Excuse me,” I asked the fitting room attendant. “Does this cart belong to someone?” She assured me it did. So I waited. A woman came out, but didn’t go near the cart. I wasn’t convinced there even was a woman connected to the cart so I went to see if anyone was still in the fitting room. Two doors were closed. Not bad. I can wait/stalk for ten minutes or so. It’s only two people.
Himself wanders past and I fill him in. I confess that I thought of just snatching it out of that woman’s cart and running to the checkout and through the doors before anyone would notice. But I couldn’t do it. Kidnapping is not how I roll. Even with fake fur. Too much bad Karma. Besides, I was dying to know who was buying it.
I hovered around home goods, then bras, then shoes, then pet supplies. Finally, a woman walked out of the fitting room, handed all of her try-ons to the clerk and headed for the cart where Pinky slept. I intercepted her. Gently. Sort of.
“Excuse me, ma-am,” I said, obviously excited. “I see you’re buying this pink lamb thingy and I was wondering how invested you are in it?”
“Not at all.” She said. “I was just about to hang it back on the rack. Do you want it?”
Do I want it? I not only want it I’m now obsessed with it. Do I want it? Yes I want it! I have wanted it from the second I saw it. Everyone I know wants it, too, now!
“Well, if you’re sure you don’t want it, I would buy it.” I said, trying not to sound too needy. . .or crazy.
“It’s yours!” she said, handing it to me.
Me yammering about I had tried it on and looked stupid and hilarious and how I write a blog and everyone said I needed to go back for it and she should check out my blog and blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah. Or baa, baa, baa, baa, baa. I sounded like a sheep bleating for treats.
I apologized for stalking her and told her to look for the stories on Facebook. I hope she does. She was very, very kind. As she walked away she laughed and said “I will do that.” She didn’t dial 911 on the crazy-woman-stalker! That’s how friendships are started! Mine anyway.