The battle in my soul of pride vs. one-stop shopping

Tonight I seriously thought about purchasing underwear at Duane Reade. Don't freak out, LaHipster, I didn't. Sure, it would have been easy to throw just one more item into the basket, but it seemed to me there was also no better way than purchasing a three pack of Hanes Her Way at my local drug store on a Monday night to broadcast to my neighborhood, "No, I'm not getting laid, nor do I have any plans to do do so in the immediate future;" besides, as I was already purchasing Epsom salt and generic tooth brushes, that announcement would have been a little redundant. I believe you can approach a check-out counter with a three pack of Hi-Cut Color Accented French Briefs plus all the lube, and massage oil and condoms you could possible carry in two arms and still you would not be fooling anyone. The high school kids behind the counter would just shake their heads and say, "Mm. Mm. Mm. Sad. Say, isn't that the lady who threw up at the pharmacy counter a few months ago?"

I did, however, purchase two pairs of socks.

These Shoes Were Made for Hitchin'

This post is dedicated to PatriotDave who waited until he was nice and soused to send me an email telling me exactly what he thought about the new direction of this blog and to specifically ask for more posts about Germans and weddings.

No, this post is dedicated to PatriotDave because I bought the above shoes at the Labor Day weekend sale at Macy's on 34th Street and have glimpsed into the abyss of what it might be like to work in retail on a busy holiday weekend. On the fifth floor in ladie's shoes, shoes were everywhere, like an improvised explosive had recently been detonated to strike terror into the hearts of civilians. There were. Shoes. Everywhere. And ladies clutching shoes and harumping spilling into every aisle and onto every flat surface. And yet, there was only one shoe assistant in circulation it seemed. This beleagured young man was sashaying back and forth to fetch boots for a pretty young white woman who was putting him through his paces while the rest of us practically climbed over each other to try to get his attention, including, most notably, by sticking a leg out to trip him.

Finally I got his attention and he agreed to bring me shoes in two sizes but I had to move to the Nine West section, where I took a seat in a chair that had been ripped up and the stuffing was coming out of it. In Macy's for Godssakes! Whether the assault on the furniture happened prior to the holiday weekend, I could not say, but clearly I had left the green zone. The woman sitting across from me starting talking to me, as is my luck despite the fact that I rarely want to talk with anyone. She asked me to watch her bag while she paraded around in some end of season rhinestone bedecked wedges because a woman had told her that someone had stolen her teenage daughter's sneakers while the girl was trying on shoes. Thomas Hobbes was right about man in the natural state and the department store shoe sale is as close to conditions in the natural state as modern man has been able to simulate. That is a pretty freaking low trick, if only because it then forces you to buy something at the Macy's shoe sale because at that point, your other option is to limp out of the store bareboot, and if you've ever seen the non-Thanksgiving Day Parade version of Herald Square you know that is not an savory choice.

Actually, this post is dedicated to SmartyPants because these are the shoes I bought to wear in her wedding and I wanted to show them to her. After about 10 minutes in the conditions mentioned above I was starting to lose my mind, but rather than pull an about face, I stuck it out because I saw these lovlies which looked like they would match my dress and naturally I had a fabric swatch in my purse, because that is how the Ultimate Maid of Honor rolls. The color is perfect, the style is something that can be worn again, and the heel is a comfortable height for me, so although the toe is rather comically pointy, I felt the coupon buring a hole in my pocket and saw in my mind that I could cross one more thing off my wedding to-do list. And it was all worth it, because I got a killer discount on the shoes, right? Well, this pair was not on sale, of course. But I did have my 15% off store wide coupon (10% on shoes) so I was surprised when I ended up sliding my Macy's card through and paying full price. "What about my coupon?" I asked the girl.

"Oh," she said, pointing out the fine print. "The coupon is not valid on designer shoes."

Well bend me over, Anne Klein, I didn't realize I was being limited to undesigned shoes. Of course, I don't know how you make a pair of shoes without designing them. I guess you squirt a big puddle of Elmer's glue out, and then close your eyes and drop cut-out shapes of leather into the glue and whatever sticks together, there's your shoe! Nicely played, Macy's! Whatever, I've got shoes and that means I'm one step closed to getting the happy couple hitched.

Next up: photos of Germans in Rhode Island. It's your lucky day, Dave!