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Maturity – It’s Hard to Come By

November 30, 2008

I hate to have to write this because it speaks ill of my most favoritess (real word, look it up) store in the whole world – Nordstrom.  Today I was in desperate need of some tops to pair with my new favorite winter wardrobe piece – leggings (hello expandable pants) – so I headed to the Brass Plum department of Nordstrom (BP equals junior’s department, meaning affordable).  I meandered my way through the section, picked up what I wanted to try on and then headed back to the dressing room.  There wasn’t an employee so I walked to the checkout desk where I grabbed a young girl’s attention (amazingly so in retrospect).  I asked politely if I could please have a dressing room.  Much to my dismay she did not say/do, “Oh yes, so sorry about that, absolutely just follow me!”  It was more like, “……….did you find what you were looking for today (in such a hushed tone that I barely heard her)?”  She flippantly opened up a dressing room for me and told me her name was Rachel.  WHATEVER, I thought, being blown off by an eight year old, please, like I care.  I rushed through all of my options (sometime you just know if it’s a yes or a no and today was one of those days).  I would guess about 8 minutes later I walked back up to the very same front desk with my two purchase items.  Because I know these girls work off of commission I stood in front of Rachel and handed her my items.  “Was anyone helping you with these today?”  Seriously?  Did you just ask me that?  So I laughed and said, “Yes, you were.”  I know it’s hard to focus what with all that white noise going on inside your head and all but just try.  Rachel gave a condescending glance to her fellow infant employee, as if to say “What a moron why would I remember her, she isn’t Paris Hilton, Beyonce, or a reality TV star, duh.”  So I did what any self respecting nearly 30 year old would do.  I handed her my Nordstrom Visa card with a little bit of hatred, flashed my expensive watch, and dangled my beautiful wedding ring in her 17 year old smug little face.  I don’t know about her but I sure felt better! 


On any other day I could have chalked it up to jealousy on her part but, um, today was not one of those days being that I was sporting my leggings, Uggs, a t-shirt, running jacket, no makeup, and a dirty, dirty pony tail (and my glasses) so I kind of think she wasn’t jealous of my stunning look today.

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