what fun is a vacation if you don't relive it?
Get Outta Here: Welcome to my world
I live one of those lives where odd, sometimes impossible things happen on a regular basis. Probably no more to me than the next guy, actually, but I’ve learned to keep my eye peeled for them as a source of amusement.
(When you live in Indiana, you look for two things in life: vacations and amusement. Well, and IU basketball, but I’m unbalanced in my devotion to the Cream and Crimson.)
Let me give you an example: My friend of 30+ years and I always go shopping along Michigan Avenue in Chicago between Christmas and New Year’s, looking for deals and ordering pizza at Giordano’s. On our last trip, we wandered into Sax Fifth Avenue, strolling the cosmetic aisles. She spied a beautiful shade of violet eye shadow, and the second she paused, a gal whipped around the corner to ask her if she had a product to make powders like that stay on her eyes longer. Well, no. So the salesperson offered to show her.
The next thing we knew, this gal had wiped off all of Diane’s make-up and was proceeding to give her a full make-over. Good thing we weren’t in a hurry because every step came with the usual spiel talking about the product benefits, etc. It would have been annoying if not for the fact this gal was the most talented make-up artist I’ve seen in a department store. My friend was sitting there looking more gorgeous by the minute.
When the salesperson finished, Diane had made up her mind on the few products she wanted, and that’s when the circus really started. “Oh, that’s a great choice, and if you get that you have to have the companion product, X. Set that aside for her.” We’d ask a price and were told, “if you buy two, the second one is half off, which is a great deal so we’ll put you down for the combo.” Somewhere in there, the gal filling this order realized they didn’t have everything in stock, and offered to ship it. Oh, and Diane wouldn’t have to pay tax or shipping charges if she had a Sax Fifth Avenue charge card, so let’s fill out that application.
We had no less than three people working on different parts of this order, and frankly, I was dizzy trying to figure out the cost. I’m not good with conceptual numbers – Diane is a whiz at math in her head – so I nearly panicked when the make-up artist turned to me and said, “Your turn.” Uh-uh. I couldn’t afford to sit in that chair. I was less than gracious in refusing, even though inside I was crying, “I want to look that good, too.”
After we walked away, we ducked into the restroom and Diane looked a little green. “How much do you think I spent?” she asked. Oh. My. Gosh. If Diane didn’t know, this was a disaster of monumental proportions. I could have made an educated guess within $5 per item had it been Estee Lauder (I’m lazy about brands. I find one and stick to it), but I’d never heard of this one before. And we were in Sax Fifth, a store where we could only afford to use the restroom.
She spent the rest of the week worrying over what she’d done.
When the order arrived on Diane’s doorstep, she had a complete skin care regimen, cosmetics and a handful of gifts along with a receipt for … are you sitting down? … less than $200. Get outta here! Now I was the one kicking myself for not having the moxie to take a chance.
Next time, I won’t be so timid about reaching out for something I want.
(When you live in Indiana, you look for two things in life: vacations and amusement. Well, and IU basketball, but I’m unbalanced in my devotion to the Cream and Crimson.)
Let me give you an example: My friend of 30+ years and I always go shopping along Michigan Avenue in Chicago between Christmas and New Year’s, looking for deals and ordering pizza at Giordano’s. On our last trip, we wandered into Sax Fifth Avenue, strolling the cosmetic aisles. She spied a beautiful shade of violet eye shadow, and the second she paused, a gal whipped around the corner to ask her if she had a product to make powders like that stay on her eyes longer. Well, no. So the salesperson offered to show her.
The next thing we knew, this gal had wiped off all of Diane’s make-up and was proceeding to give her a full make-over. Good thing we weren’t in a hurry because every step came with the usual spiel talking about the product benefits, etc. It would have been annoying if not for the fact this gal was the most talented make-up artist I’ve seen in a department store. My friend was sitting there looking more gorgeous by the minute.
When the salesperson finished, Diane had made up her mind on the few products she wanted, and that’s when the circus really started. “Oh, that’s a great choice, and if you get that you have to have the companion product, X. Set that aside for her.” We’d ask a price and were told, “if you buy two, the second one is half off, which is a great deal so we’ll put you down for the combo.” Somewhere in there, the gal filling this order realized they didn’t have everything in stock, and offered to ship it. Oh, and Diane wouldn’t have to pay tax or shipping charges if she had a Sax Fifth Avenue charge card, so let’s fill out that application.
We had no less than three people working on different parts of this order, and frankly, I was dizzy trying to figure out the cost. I’m not good with conceptual numbers – Diane is a whiz at math in her head – so I nearly panicked when the make-up artist turned to me and said, “Your turn.” Uh-uh. I couldn’t afford to sit in that chair. I was less than gracious in refusing, even though inside I was crying, “I want to look that good, too.”
After we walked away, we ducked into the restroom and Diane looked a little green. “How much do you think I spent?” she asked. Oh. My. Gosh. If Diane didn’t know, this was a disaster of monumental proportions. I could have made an educated guess within $5 per item had it been Estee Lauder (I’m lazy about brands. I find one and stick to it), but I’d never heard of this one before. And we were in Sax Fifth, a store where we could only afford to use the restroom.
She spent the rest of the week worrying over what she’d done.
When the order arrived on Diane’s doorstep, she had a complete skin care regimen, cosmetics and a handful of gifts along with a receipt for … are you sitting down? … less than $200. Get outta here! Now I was the one kicking myself for not having the moxie to take a chance.
Next time, I won’t be so timid about reaching out for something I want.
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