Like a lot of people, I get Daily Candy delivered to my inbox each day. My normal reaction is to roll my eyes because—as I will never dye my pubes hot pink or purchase high-waisted hot pants even if they're half price at some DUMBO sample sale—it's fairly useless to me. But still, I almost always read it.
However, last week I saw a 25% off coupon for this store Oak, around the corner from my house. I've been to Oak before. I saw a $1,000 purse there that I really wanted but will never be able to afford. Otherwise, the store's clothes are all too small for my ass and too large for my wallet, if you know what I mean. I went to their website anyway and boy am I glad I did because I found the CUTEST SHOES OF ALL TIME! And with my coupon, they'd only be $80. I was stoked.
So the big guy and I went to the store and there they were! My shoes! Every bit as pretty as they'd looked in the picture. The reluctant (yet attractive) youngster who worked there found my size and they fit like a dream. I was really happy because normally, when I get fixated on something—and I do get fixated—by the time I get around to affording the object of my obsession, it's either out of stock forever or only available in Latvia or some shit.
I rooted through my purse to find my coupon. I never used to be a coupon clipper. There are very few things I think I'm too cool for, but coupons have always been one of them. However this particular coupon was going to save me $27! Who needs dignity when you're saving nearly thirty bucks? Not I!
Our salesgirl had disappeared with my shoes, so we headed to the counter. It was then that I noticed that the register is located behind a black wall, almost six-feet high and seven or eight feet long! I attempted to go around it, but that move was quickly discouraged with a scowl. So I went to the opposite side of the wall from the sales chick, stood on my tippy toes—still couldn't see over—and yelped that I had a coupon! I held it high over my head.
It's probably a good thing that I couldn't see her face when I announced that. A tiny hand shot up and grabbed the coupon. "That'll be $80," I heard a voice say. I got back up on my toes and passed my credit card over the barrier. My boyfriend—who's 6'5" and is one of the few people in the universe physically able to see both sides without a ladder—asked her why they had a giant wall there. I mean, it makes no sense! Cashiers can't see if people are stealing, customers can't see if anyone's working there—it's just nutty.
Her answer, as she slid my receipt over the wall: "It makes a statement."
We were laughing too hard to ask what exactly that statement was. God, I love Williamsburg.
Oh, and the picture of Ryan Adams is apropos of nothing—I just thought it was adorable and the world can always use more cuteness.
Kids, do lots of cocaine and you too can be cute like sweet li'l Ryan!
Posted by: ks | August 27, 2008 at 11:36 PM
Not to be all nitpicky, but I believe his drug of choice was the big H. Clean and sober these days though.
Posted by: Judy McBlueShoes | August 28, 2008 at 04:09 PM
Or so he says. And junkies would never lie, would they?
Posted by: ks | August 28, 2008 at 06:05 PM