Steph and I went shopping on Saturday for a cocktail dress for her. I've been shopping with Steph since our tween years (we met when we were three), so I was prepared for her to try on 27 dresses in Dillard's alone. (And no, that's not comic exaggeration. I counted them.)
We started at Nordstrom, where we'd had success before in the lingerie department, but alas, she wouldn't listen as I tried to sell her on a gold, halter bandage dress (she looked hot, trust me) or a similar black number. She put few things on hold, and we wandered off to a boutique that I'd never heard of before (nothing) and finally, Dillard's. Dillard's has always been our friend.
We walked into the occasion dress department, and Steph's nose immediately began to twitch. She began loading up her arms with dresses. That's when we noticed the auro of economic panic at Dillard's. Saleswomen began circling like sharks. Green Jacket, who was wearing more make-up than Dolly Parton, swooped in and started a room for us. Ten seconds later, a short, dark-haired woman approached Steph and asked if she could help her. "No," said Steph, "that woman just started a room."
The dark-haired woman snorted. She snorted! "SHE DOES NOT WORK IN DRESSES," she said, and stalked away, leaving Steph staring after her in amazement. Steph does not take well to rudeness. I think it's because she doesn't work in corporate America. She's a psychologist, and psychologists are shockingly nice to each other. I think they have to take some sort of pleasantry oath right before they get the PhD.
Anyway, we kept stocking up (remember, 27 dresses), carefully avoiding the disgruntled dark-haired saleswoman, who now stood complaining loudly to her cohort about us and Green Jacket. "This is what happens," Steph whispered to me. "It's a down economy. They're going for blood."
Like rabbits with black-tie attire, we scampered back to the dressing room where the celebrating commenced. Steph looked great in everything she put on. It was all 40-70% off. Green Jacket practically salivated as she answered our every beck and call. Steph ended up getting three dresses for what it usually costs to get one. We could almost feel the disgruntled saleswoman's glare boring into our backs, though, she who rightly should have reaped the rewards of a multi-dress sale. Green Jacket nearly licked her chops when she saw Steph pull out the credit card.
This is shopping in a down economy. Consider yourself fresh meat.
