I had a shopping strike-out this weekend. As in, I struck out. New swimsuit? Swing and a miss. I'd been eyeing the Syla Ava bikini and discovered a sample sale that was carrying it. I got all psyched up to go first thing in the morning (which is hard for me on a day off) and no one answered the door! I reassured myself. It's ok. I moved on to a pair off gray camper sandals that I tried on a month ago but were now on sale. I immediately attacked the first salesperson I saw and asked for my size. The doubtful look on his face told me they were probably out. I waited. What? Every other size but mine? Erg. Fine. I can save the money. And if I had really truly loved them, I would have bought them last month. OK. Next! Agent Provocateur. Eight months ago I bought an undie set that I loved, felt guilty about the cost (paid full price which I rarely do), and returned it. Lo and behold, it was now on sale. The saleswoman was confident that they had my size. Another worker went to check. Comes back with a no. My original saleperson didn't believe her. Went to check for herself. I appreciated her tough-girl attitude that allowed her to doubt her coworker. I waited expectantly for her to come back around the corner. She returned to me empty-handed with a look of disbelief. It was then that I gave up on the shopping trip and indulged in fancy chocolate.
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