I went to the mall today. December 20th. It was hell, but not for any of the reasons you think.
I’m not really a mall person, but go occasionally because they have all the things a girl needs, like The Lego Store, The Apple Store, A giant Sephora, Fredrick’s of Hollywood and, for todays trip down the rabbit hole, a sprawling Victoria’s Secret. The Mall in December? That would usually be a Hell No. All that shit is available on line where I can shop in my underwear with a drink in one hand.
But unfortunately I had procrastinated myself into a corner. A client had brought me several bra’s from Vickey’s and had grossly miss-underestimated The Ladies needs. Today was about the last day I could exchange them with a straight face.
I use my iPhone for baby distracting while I shop. I admit it. I have spent much time and many dollars ensuring that he has access to the best educational apps, and he quickly scrolls passed them to launch youtube and watch Russian Tractor Videos.
We walked into the mall and I spy a boot sale. Hey Monkey! Look! Tractor Videos! Mommy needs to touch some boots. It was 10 minutes of bliss punctuated only by me asking him to turn it down a bit.
Which he did.
For about two nano-seconds. Apparently Russian Tractor Videos can only be enjoyed at top volume.
After drooling over some boots I couldn’t afford, I told Monkey we needed to continue on and he should pause his tractor video and give me my phone. He does so obediently and drops it in my purse and we head off hand in hand. Ahh! Such a good boy!
And just for the record, before this story goes any further, I saw, and everyone in the boot store heard, that yes, he was indeed watching tractor videos.
We head into Vickys and I explain the exchange needed to a sales woman. She walks us from the loud, crowded display floor, to a silent, nearly spa-like changing area and hands me off to someone who will make sure we get The Ladies properly fitted. I hear… something… from my purse. As we head into the silence, it becomes louder. More obvious.
It’s a recording I made a few weeks ago for a client.
My voice is coming from my purse.
“You are a naughty little slut aren’t you….”
Both women are staring at me.
“Get down there and kiss those shoes… slowly… don’t rush it…. show me how much you love them… “
Monkey is the only one who, thankfully, seems oblivious as he explores our private room quickly taking over the chair for his cars as I try to explain to the sales women what size and style I think will work better for me. I try to slyly unzip my purse and slip my hand inside.
This means the sound is no longer muffled.
But the changing room is getting quieter.
“I know what you want. I know what you need…”
I’m trying to be nonchalant as I dig for my phone in my crowded purse. Car, car, antibacterial handwash, small play dough, wallet, business card holder, car, car, lego lightsaber, car… finally… phone. Just yesterday my Mr had pointed out that I hadn’t enabled security, so, to ensure my safety, I had.
So I had to pull it all the way out of my purse so I could punch in the security code before I could turn down the volume as the two women staring wide eyed…
“I know how much you need to please me, to make me happy. Deep breath my pet, relax, let it happen… let me have my way… “