My very dear, very Southern friend who lives down the street invited me to lunch yesterday.  We took my car so she paid for lunch.  You know sometimes I am pretty naive.  This was one of those times.  As soon as the waitress pulled our plates she asked if I would mind going to Dillard’s for just a second.  She needed a red purse.  Now that’s all she said “I need a red purse”.  I was soon to learn that needing a red purse meant it had to be of medium size, have at least one outside pockets, a middle zipper compartment, an inside pocket for her cell phone, and a structured bottom.  Oh, and it couldn’t be anything but one specific color of red.  That second turned into an hour of looking at every red purse Dillard’s had, and systematically dismissing them all.

When I gave up on red purses and started looking at the costume jewelry she joined me.  She decided she wanted a CZ wedding band and some earrings for her grand-daughter.  The earrings were easy.  That only took about half and hour.  The looking for a wedding band took a lot longer.  First, it needed to be a size 9.  Then, it needed to be yellow gold and not look cheap. I pulled every yellow gold non-cheap looking wedding band I could find.  Please remember that we are looking at costume jewelry.  So I reminded her that the yellow gold rings were probably just gold plated.  You can’t get a yellow gold CZ wedding band for $20.   I told her that when Boppy and I travel I always wear faux jewelry.  That way if we are ever held up the thieves wouldn’t be taking my good jewelry.  She had never heard of such a thing, so she starts polling the other customers.  More often than not they traveled with fakes.  One cute little blinged out elderly woman stated that she wore fakes unless she was going to Vegas.  My very dear, very Southern friend who lives down the street, walked out with sterling silver studs in several sizes for her grand-daughter and a sterling silver and CZ wedding band for herself.  But that wasn’t as simple as it sounds.  Having given up on me, she started asking the other customers if the ring looked cheap.  She finally abducted one silver haired, bent over, older woman and she began helping us look for a wedding band.  After she held up an onyx ring and proudly declared it was an amethyst, I was pretty sure she was a less than perfect source.  We practically had to take the octogenarian with us as we turned (I thought) to leave.

No such luck.  With bags in hand I was heading for the door when she passed the perfume counter.  “I need some cheap perfume.  I used to always wear Chanel Allure, but I’m so broke now I need some cheap stuff”.  There is no “cheap” stuff at Dillard’s perfume counter.  There is less expensive.  She has always commented on how good I smell, whenever we are together.  So I took her to the Vera Wang section so she could smell the cologne I wear.  “No it’s way too sweet.”  We tried Elizabeth Arden’s Fifth Avenue…”Well hell, that smells like finger nail polish remover!” she proclaimed quite loudly.   I then took her to the Dior counter.  “Is that the best they could do? It smells like it came from Avon.”  As I decided we needed to leave the perfume counters, the employee that had been helping us patted my back and said “Good Luck!”  I murmured my thanks.  Again heading for the door I was stopped by a request to go upstairs and look at blouses for her to take on her trip to Scotland next month.  Now by this time my patience was stretched to the max.  I hadn’t slept well the night before and my pain level has been in the upper half of ten for about two weeks now, and I knew this was not going to be easy.  But off we went up the escalator to look at tops.  A novice no longer, I asked her to be specific about the type of shirt she wanted.  “Just something that is longer.  You know, it needs to hide my butt.”  Off we went in search of the elusive blouse that would cover her butt.  The first one I picked up had a neckline that was too low.  Now I’m not trying to tell you that there was cleavage.  The problem was “it’ll show my turkey waddle”.  “So what you want is a top that hangs below your butt, and hides your turkey waddle.” “Yeah.”  So off I went looking for a top that was a tunic, basically and had a high neckline.  I found a button up tunic that could hide as much or as little turkey waddle as she wanted.  “Oh that’s cute.  Does it come in any other colors?”  Of course it didn’t.  I said “what colors are you wanting?”  “Well, I’m taking black pants, blue pants, khaki pants, and blue jeans.”  “My God!  Anything will go with those colors.  What was really wrong with the last blouse?”  “It had some weird colors in it.”  “Like what?”  “Lavender.”  So now I am searching for a tunic with a turtleneck in a solid color.  I came back with a top that was basically a tunic t-shirt in solid white.  “I have t-shirts coming out the wazoo, and that one has short sleeves.”  “So you want long sleeves.”  “Hell no.  I want the sleeves to come to the end of my flags.”  For those of you who don’t know…that is arm flab.  Back I go with yet another “it has to have” added to my list.  I thought I had it this time.  I brought a nice red striped tunic with a boat neck and 3/4 length sleeves.  “I can’t wear horizontal stripes!  I’ll look like a giant peppermint stick.”  I finally gave up.  Go back in the dressing room and I will bring you more things you won’t like”.  She finally found a zip up hoodie in a blue horizontal stripe with red trim that fell below her butt for $14 and an hour and a half after we walked in for “just a sec” we left Dillard’s with the fake jewelry and one top.  One top!

When I picked her up that afternoon, she had mentioned needing to go to Walgreen’s.  I hesitantly asked if she still wanted to go to Walgreen’s.  “No, I’m done.  I just want to go home and put my feet up.  You just wore me out.”  I wore her out?  Are you kidding me?  I felt like I had been rode hard and put up wet.  I couldn’t get her home fast enough.  I went home, took a pain pill, and laid myself down for a nap.  I slept for almost two hours.

I don’t like shopping.  I like virtual shopping.  Give me an order form online that accepts American Express and I am one happy lady.  I don’t like crowds.  I don’t like sales people.  I don’t like trying on, and I have recently found out I’m not crazy about 70 year old women who have nothing better to do than try on blouses.