A tall, slim blonde waited on Harry to take the shoes out of the bag and hand her the sales receipt. He immediately balled up the bag, pulled on the front strap of my messenger bag and shoved the wadded plastic in between my boobs.
"Did you want to keep the other pair?" the girl asked Harry while I struggled to release my strap.
"GOD! That is SO rude!" I said dramatically.
The salesgirl, hereafter known as "Bambi," paused and stared at me with wide eyes. I smiled weakly at her and then, glaring at my husband, I pulled out the bag and slammed it on the counter.
I was feeling a bit jumpy because, well, I had to pee and BAM! closed their bathrooms to the public. Never mess with a gal who has to pee. She WILL do bad things.
"I thought you meant ME!" Bambi giggled and turned back to her register.
"Oh, no, no! Just my mean ol' husband, here!" I laughed.
"Okay, so was there anything wrong with this pair of shoes?" Bambi asked a few minutes later after she had pushed some buttons and scanned some codes.
"Nope. I bought two of the same shoe and the other one is working out just great."
"Oh, did you join a gym?" she asked.
Now, a normal person would've answered her quickly and frankly, but seeing as how I am, at any given time, processing entirely too many thoughts at once, I stood there and apparently stared at her with a squished-up, constipational-like face.
I was thinking:
- "No! I just have to run after a toddler all day so - well - yeah! I guess I did kinda join a gym!" (insert self-deprecating chuckle).
- "No! I have a lymphatic issue and have to wear good shoes - alllll the time! No heels for me!" (insert self-deprecating chuckle).
- "No! I don't have time to shave my legs much less go to a fancy-pants gym! "(insert self-deprecating chuckle).
- "No! I'm good with being fat." (insert self-deprecating chuckle).
But instead, I just said:
A few minutes later we were strolling toward Macy's and the comforts of their facilities when Harry turned toward me. "Wow," he said. "I really thought you were gonna bitch-slap that girl for asking you if you joined a gym!"
"Wait - was I rude? Was I really? Oh GOD! I was, wasn't I?" I stopped in mid-pee-pee dance to look at my husband imploringly.
"No!" he said.
Am seriously considering sending her a cookie cake with the words "I'm sorry. I had to pee. I didn't mean any rudeness." (insert self-deprecating chuckle).
***The shoe to start all meltdowns***