bell was about to ring. Spinning around, I damn near knocked the heifer down. With all my stomping, I didn’t hear her sneak up on me.
“ It’s locked,” she said, blowing a big bubble that nearly brushed my face. She walked around me and unlocked the door. The urge to reach out and touch this twit was so strong I could taste it. Instead, I walked into the dressing room.
“ You’re only allowed six pieces at time,” she cracked again.
I held up each item for her inspection. Why I was putting up with her insolent behavior was starting to bother me. It wasn’t like I couldn’t afford to go anywhere else. I guess it became a principal for me to show her what I was working with. I had more money in my wallet than she probably had in her entire bank account.
People kill me judging folks without knowing them. For all she knew, I could have been Oprah in disguise. Furthermore, she would’ve pissed away a fat commission with her ignorant attitude. Regardless of my appearance from the neck down, she should have at least pretended to give a shit. I tried on each outfit and was delighted to find out that none of them fit. I poked my head outside the dressing room door. “I need a smaller size.”
She gave me this honey-please look that would’ve gotten her shot if I had a gun. I stared back at her in defiance. She finally got up, grabbed some keys off the counter, and shuffled to the dressing room as if concrete blocks were weighing her steps.
“ If you don’t mind, I’m in a hurry.” I could tell she wanted to get smart but thought better of it.
“ What size do you want?” she said, reaching for the outfit I was holding out.
“ Bring me a ten.”
“ We don’t have this in a ten; we only have an eight.” A few minutes later, she brought me the eight with this kiss-my-ass smile on her face. “Still want to try it?” Her voice was melodic as if she were taunting me.
“ Hand ’em here.” She pissed me off so badly, I was determined to wear them even if I had to bust a seam or two getting in them.
The skirt fit like a glove made for me; it was perfect. I turned to admire myself in the mirror. The difference was amazing. I took the jacket from its hanger and tried it on. I doubted it would fit because of my boobs but surprisingly it fit too. With the new hairdo and the clothes, I didn’t recognize myself.
I tried on the other two outfits. They fit as well and I was ecstatic. I was so happy I went to find some other things as well, forgetting all about the hateful salesperson. She stared at my bare feet but didn’t say anything as I flittered about the store. My pile of clothes grew on the counter as I tried on practically everything in my size.
Exhausted, I put back on the clothes I’d wore into the store and stepped to the register. Nothing would have pleased me more than to walk about the store with nothing but that would have been silly since I looked so good in them. “Do you work on commission?”
“ No,” she replied as she rang up my purchases. She tried to hide the smirk on her face when she told me how much I owed.
I didn’t flinch. I just handed her my credit card with a smirk on my face. She didn’t start to bag my items until the little machine finished processing my purchase. Finally she smiled, showing all of her teeth.
“ I’m glad,” I said as I took the bags from her hand.
“ Huh?”
“ I’m glad you don’t get a commission off of me because your attitude sucks. Had you been nicer, I might’ve bought you an outfit or two.”
The smile on her face disappeared.
I reached up to flip my hair back off my shoulder but my attempt was only met with open air. I had to get used to my hair being short. Hopefully, she didn’t notice my haughty attempt to flaunt my stuff. I took my packages to the car and doubled back to the spa for the pampering my body was screaming for.
* * *
I drove home with V103 tuned on my radio. The music was blasting, and I sang along the whole
“ It’s locked,” she said, blowing a big bubble that nearly brushed my face. She walked around me and unlocked the door. The urge to reach out and touch this twit was so strong I could taste it. Instead, I walked into the dressing room.
“ You’re only allowed six pieces at time,” she cracked again.
I held up each item for her inspection. Why I was putting up with her insolent behavior was starting to bother me. It wasn’t like I couldn’t afford to go anywhere else. I guess it became a principal for me to show her what I was working with. I had more money in my wallet than she probably had in her entire bank account.
People kill me judging folks without knowing them. For all she knew, I could have been Oprah in disguise. Furthermore, she would’ve pissed away a fat commission with her ignorant attitude. Regardless of my appearance from the neck down, she should have at least pretended to give a shit. I tried on each outfit and was delighted to find out that none of them fit. I poked my head outside the dressing room door. “I need a smaller size.”
She gave me this honey-please look that would’ve gotten her shot if I had a gun. I stared back at her in defiance. She finally got up, grabbed some keys off the counter, and shuffled to the dressing room as if concrete blocks were weighing her steps.
“ If you don’t mind, I’m in a hurry.” I could tell she wanted to get smart but thought better of it.
“ What size do you want?” she said, reaching for the outfit I was holding out.
“ Bring me a ten.”
“ We don’t have this in a ten; we only have an eight.” A few minutes later, she brought me the eight with this kiss-my-ass smile on her face. “Still want to try it?” Her voice was melodic as if she were taunting me.
“ Hand ’em here.” She pissed me off so badly, I was determined to wear them even if I had to bust a seam or two getting in them.
The skirt fit like a glove made for me; it was perfect. I turned to admire myself in the mirror. The difference was amazing. I took the jacket from its hanger and tried it on. I doubted it would fit because of my boobs but surprisingly it fit too. With the new hairdo and the clothes, I didn’t recognize myself.
I tried on the other two outfits. They fit as well and I was ecstatic. I was so happy I went to find some other things as well, forgetting all about the hateful salesperson. She stared at my bare feet but didn’t say anything as I flittered about the store. My pile of clothes grew on the counter as I tried on practically everything in my size.
Exhausted, I put back on the clothes I’d wore into the store and stepped to the register. Nothing would have pleased me more than to walk about the store with nothing but that would have been silly since I looked so good in them. “Do you work on commission?”
“ No,” she replied as she rang up my purchases. She tried to hide the smirk on her face when she told me how much I owed.
I didn’t flinch. I just handed her my credit card with a smirk on my face. She didn’t start to bag my items until the little machine finished processing my purchase. Finally she smiled, showing all of her teeth.
“ I’m glad,” I said as I took the bags from her hand.
“ Huh?”
“ I’m glad you don’t get a commission off of me because your attitude sucks. Had you been nicer, I might’ve bought you an outfit or two.”
The smile on her face disappeared.
I reached up to flip my hair back off my shoulder but my attempt was only met with open air. I had to get used to my hair being short. Hopefully, she didn’t notice my haughty attempt to flaunt my stuff. I took my packages to the car and doubled back to the spa for the pampering my body was screaming for.
* * *
I drove home with V103 tuned on my radio. The music was blasting, and I sang along the whole
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