Showing posts with label shopping. Show all posts
Showing posts with label shopping. Show all posts
Monday, November 17, 2008
How Macy's Ruined My COM Prom.
Dear Macy's,
Thank you for ruining my last Com Prom ever. I am nothing but loyal and what do you do? Let me down when I need you most.
One hour before my guests were due to arrive, I stepped out of the shower, took my dress off the hanger and prepared to put it on. Instead, I shrieked at the sight of the ink tag... the four inch long and one inch wide ink tag... still on the side of my dress.
How could you?
I spent the next hour trying to decide whether I would go to Park Street and start screaming at someone, not go to Com Prom, wear the dress with the ink tag anyways or settle for a dress I'd already worn. I watched a YouTube video about how to take off ink tags but it was geared toward shoplifters with fancy tools I don't have.
I didn't wear your dress, Macy's. I brought it in on Saturday to return it and the cashier didn't even care. I told her I had nothing to wear and she said, "Aww. That's awful."
YES MACY'S. YES IT IS AWFUL.
You should really work on hiring people who pay attention. You might also want to work on your customer service. And anyone shopping at Macy's or elsewhere should keep an eye on those ink tags.
I don't know if I can ever go back. My fury can not adequately be expressed. The wounds are still fresh. You really let me down.
We're over. I mean it.
Maria
Thursday, November 13, 2008
Great [Craigslist] Success!
This morning when I woke up to study for my anthro test, I decided to look one last time for a single Kings of Leon ticket being sold. I found one on Craigslist, e-mailed the seller and set up a pick-up time and location.
All day I was plagued with terrifying premonitions of my life ending in some cold, moldy basement in Brookline while some large, hairy man stood over me holding a meat cleaver, chuckling that I would be so stupid as to fall for his trick.
This is why I mass texted my friends with my whereabout and sent several Twitter notifications and tried to call my mom so I could talk to her while meeting this stranger... just in case.
Man did I feel stupid when the guy bashfully approached and handed me the ticket telling me how he couldn't go tonight because he'd be at the Patriots game. (I'll just ignore the extortion facilitated by Craigslist. Let's not talk about the price.)
Later my mom called and said, "I don't like that Princess Peanut! Never again!" The Dad Approval Rating of my actions would probably be somewhere around -27%.
BUT. I've wanted to see Kings of Leon for a very long time! And now I will!
Long Live Craigslist!
All day I was plagued with terrifying premonitions of my life ending in some cold, moldy basement in Brookline while some large, hairy man stood over me holding a meat cleaver, chuckling that I would be so stupid as to fall for his trick.
This is why I mass texted my friends with my whereabout and sent several Twitter notifications and tried to call my mom so I could talk to her while meeting this stranger... just in case.
Man did I feel stupid when the guy bashfully approached and handed me the ticket telling me how he couldn't go tonight because he'd be at the Patriots game. (I'll just ignore the extortion facilitated by Craigslist. Let's not talk about the price.)
Later my mom called and said, "I don't like that Princess Peanut! Never again!" The Dad Approval Rating of my actions would probably be somewhere around -27%.
BUT. I've wanted to see Kings of Leon for a very long time! And now I will!
Long Live Craigslist!
Tuesday, May 27, 2008
Business Casual
GRRRRR I hate shopping!
Especially when I can't find anything. Like yesterday. Mom, dad and I went to a mall the size of a small village surrounded by carpet sidewalks and faux forestry. I tried on dozens of clothes in a desperate attempt to find something "business casual" for my upcoming internship. Wow. Who knew it would be so difficult. Several things went wrong.
A) I was in a bad mood. When I'm in a bad mood and trying to shop I shut down.
B) Shopping with people frustrates me.
C) I have no idea what qualifies as business casual and I don't want to look stupid when I start my job so I grew even more frustrated when I couldn't find anything.
D) What I did find looked ridiculous on me.
After trying on 20 articles of clothing in a poorly-lit, made-for-midgets dressing room in H&M, I was done. Mentally at least. Vicki and Michael had other plans in mind. Mom brought me into one of her favorite stores: Ann Taylor. Well... Loft. Apparently there's a difference. She picked out pants and I picked some shirts. Headed to the dressing room. Put on the clothes. Started laughing. Basically I was wearing a shapeless tarp. Mom thought the pants looked fine but I'll be damned if I will be caught wearing Ann Taylor clothes to an internship. Don't get me wrong. The clothes are fine... for other people. I can squeeze in another decade or so before stepping foot in that place again.
We had much better luck today. Mom brought me to Somerset and lo and behold the Banana Republic was the perfect balance between my reluctance to dress so rigidly and my mom's eagerness to dress me like a middle-aged woman.
For now, everyone is happy. I just hope the people I work with dress up and I don't look ridiculous.
Especially when I can't find anything. Like yesterday. Mom, dad and I went to a mall the size of a small village surrounded by carpet sidewalks and faux forestry. I tried on dozens of clothes in a desperate attempt to find something "business casual" for my upcoming internship. Wow. Who knew it would be so difficult. Several things went wrong.
A) I was in a bad mood. When I'm in a bad mood and trying to shop I shut down.
B) Shopping with people frustrates me.
C) I have no idea what qualifies as business casual and I don't want to look stupid when I start my job so I grew even more frustrated when I couldn't find anything.
D) What I did find looked ridiculous on me.
After trying on 20 articles of clothing in a poorly-lit, made-for-midgets dressing room in H&M, I was done. Mentally at least. Vicki and Michael had other plans in mind. Mom brought me into one of her favorite stores: Ann Taylor. Well... Loft. Apparently there's a difference. She picked out pants and I picked some shirts. Headed to the dressing room. Put on the clothes. Started laughing. Basically I was wearing a shapeless tarp. Mom thought the pants looked fine but I'll be damned if I will be caught wearing Ann Taylor clothes to an internship. Don't get me wrong. The clothes are fine... for other people. I can squeeze in another decade or so before stepping foot in that place again.
We had much better luck today. Mom brought me to Somerset and lo and behold the Banana Republic was the perfect balance between my reluctance to dress so rigidly and my mom's eagerness to dress me like a middle-aged woman.
For now, everyone is happy. I just hope the people I work with dress up and I don't look ridiculous.
Monday, December 24, 2007
Holiday Cheer.
I hate shopping. I have to be in the right mood and the right situation. I can not shop:
A) With other people (unless I need help or the other person is my dad)
B) During the holidays
C) When I don't know exactly what I want
D) Without music
E) With a time restraint
Today I went shopping with my two brothers, during the holiday season, without music and without knowing exactly what I wanted to buy. It was a rough day. Despite my lack of enthusiasm, we were extremely successful until I came across a make-up department lady I wanted to stab with a sharp eye-liner pencil.
My brothers and I decided that we would be good children and buy some nail polish for our mom to finish off her Christmas gift. (Dad... don't tell.) We went into Nordstrom and walked through the make-up department. An extremely thin, old lady from the Yves Saint-Laurent counter pulled me in instantly. It was late in the afternoon and the deep wrinkles in her face had soaked up her heavily applied foundation so that it was caked between the creases around her eyes. She asked if I needed help. I HATE when people approach me in stores. If I need help I will ask you. Every time I walk into a store I feel like I am bombarded by vultures trying to con me into buying all kinds of dumb crap. Like this lady. Let's call her Barbara.
So I eventually break down in the presence of Barbara's piercing stare and tell her I'm looking for nail polish for my mom.
"You know what would be perfect for her?? The [insert difficult to pronounce French name chosen to make product sound more appealing and useful than it actually is]. Does she have the same skin tone as you? Here sit down I'll show you how great it is."
My brothers start chuckling because they know how much I hate being poked and prodded by strangers. Especially strangers who sell make-up.
Barbara sits me in a high black chair.
"Off with your glasses." She pauses. "OFF WITH YOUR HEAD!!" She giggles uncontrollably.
Against my better judgment, I take off my glasses and let her have her evil way with my face. She took out something that looked like a pen with a brush at one end and applied the cream on it under my eyes. She shoved a mirror in front of my face. The angle was off so I couldn't even see myself but I told her the difference was amazing. I tried to get up but she stopped me saying "that's not all either!!!" She analyzed my face for a few seconds then grabbed a bottle of foundation and started applying it to my entire face with her cold, wrinkly hands. As she was applying it, she decided to make small talk with me. I hate small talk almost as much as I hate shopping.
"Are those your two brothers?" Barbara pried.
"Yea."
"So you're the oldest?"
"Yup."
"I bet you keep them in line then."
"I try."
"Do they pick on you a lot?"
"...I guess the normal amount."
"I always wanted a brother."
She shoved the mirror in my face. Again, I couldn't see myself because of the awkward angle of the mirror but I told her it was great. I started to get up and couldn't believe that she was standing in my way yet again. She grabbed a brown compact from a shelf and started putting bronzer all over my face. Apparently I'm pale... but the "good" kind because the undertones of my skin are good. I have no idea what that means. She finished with the bronzer and picked up red sparkling lip gloss. I'm pretty sure she told me it had peach juice and flecks of 24-carat gold in it but that can't be right. She shoved the mirror in my face one final time. Now I could see myself. My entire face was sparkling. I'm not sure why someone would buy things to make their entire face sparkle... but I guess I'm just weird like that.
I stood up from the chair, thanked her as politely as I could and told her we would come back after walking around the mall.
I never went back and never will. That woman is the devil.
My other adventure today involved taking my brother shopping for his girlfriend at Victoria's Secret. The cashier thought the panties he was paying for were for me. I don't know what was more uncomfortable: having Barbara rub her freezing, near-death hands all over my face or having some girl make jokes about my younger brother buying me tiny thongs.
A) With other people (unless I need help or the other person is my dad)
B) During the holidays
C) When I don't know exactly what I want
D) Without music
E) With a time restraint
Today I went shopping with my two brothers, during the holiday season, without music and without knowing exactly what I wanted to buy. It was a rough day. Despite my lack of enthusiasm, we were extremely successful until I came across a make-up department lady I wanted to stab with a sharp eye-liner pencil.
My brothers and I decided that we would be good children and buy some nail polish for our mom to finish off her Christmas gift. (Dad... don't tell.) We went into Nordstrom and walked through the make-up department. An extremely thin, old lady from the Yves Saint-Laurent counter pulled me in instantly. It was late in the afternoon and the deep wrinkles in her face had soaked up her heavily applied foundation so that it was caked between the creases around her eyes. She asked if I needed help. I HATE when people approach me in stores. If I need help I will ask you. Every time I walk into a store I feel like I am bombarded by vultures trying to con me into buying all kinds of dumb crap. Like this lady. Let's call her Barbara.
So I eventually break down in the presence of Barbara's piercing stare and tell her I'm looking for nail polish for my mom.
"You know what would be perfect for her?? The [insert difficult to pronounce French name chosen to make product sound more appealing and useful than it actually is]. Does she have the same skin tone as you? Here sit down I'll show you how great it is."
My brothers start chuckling because they know how much I hate being poked and prodded by strangers. Especially strangers who sell make-up.
Barbara sits me in a high black chair.
"Off with your glasses." She pauses. "OFF WITH YOUR HEAD!!" She giggles uncontrollably.
Against my better judgment, I take off my glasses and let her have her evil way with my face. She took out something that looked like a pen with a brush at one end and applied the cream on it under my eyes. She shoved a mirror in front of my face. The angle was off so I couldn't even see myself but I told her the difference was amazing. I tried to get up but she stopped me saying "that's not all either!!!" She analyzed my face for a few seconds then grabbed a bottle of foundation and started applying it to my entire face with her cold, wrinkly hands. As she was applying it, she decided to make small talk with me. I hate small talk almost as much as I hate shopping.
"Are those your two brothers?" Barbara pried.
"Yea."
"So you're the oldest?"
"Yup."
"I bet you keep them in line then."
"I try."
"Do they pick on you a lot?"
"...I guess the normal amount."
"I always wanted a brother."
She shoved the mirror in my face. Again, I couldn't see myself because of the awkward angle of the mirror but I told her it was great. I started to get up and couldn't believe that she was standing in my way yet again. She grabbed a brown compact from a shelf and started putting bronzer all over my face. Apparently I'm pale... but the "good" kind because the undertones of my skin are good. I have no idea what that means. She finished with the bronzer and picked up red sparkling lip gloss. I'm pretty sure she told me it had peach juice and flecks of 24-carat gold in it but that can't be right. She shoved the mirror in my face one final time. Now I could see myself. My entire face was sparkling. I'm not sure why someone would buy things to make their entire face sparkle... but I guess I'm just weird like that.
I stood up from the chair, thanked her as politely as I could and told her we would come back after walking around the mall.
I never went back and never will. That woman is the devil.
My other adventure today involved taking my brother shopping for his girlfriend at Victoria's Secret. The cashier thought the panties he was paying for were for me. I don't know what was more uncomfortable: having Barbara rub her freezing, near-death hands all over my face or having some girl make jokes about my younger brother buying me tiny thongs.
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