Happy Valentine's Day, one and all. And I mean that. From the heart of my bottom.
Having kind of a weird day over here in singles-land. I mean, sure, it's Valentine's Day but it also happens to be Saturday and I work all week so, dammit, I was gonna get my shit done today...
Oh such a horrible, horrible idea, poppets.
It started out fine. Had to drop something off at my doctor's office. Met my parents at the Acura dealership because we were going to have lunch after. This is when things got funky...
The salesman took his sweet time with the paperwork so we waited a while. And while we waited, this guy kept looking over at us. He wasn't unattractive or dirty or anything like that but he made my skin crawl anyway. And while my parents went to go hash out some financial stuff, I waited in this lounge area with him three feet away. He kept trying to talk to me and he was nice but still, crawly skin.
I had lunch soon after. With my parents. On Valentine's Day. Party of three. Dear Spinsterhood, welcome.
Coming back to my neighborhood, on the 101, I got cut off by a car full of nuns. I half-expected them to give me the finger as I sped up and went around them-- that would have delighted me, in fact.
At the mall, the store I needed to go to? Out of business. At least at this mall.
So I went to Bloomingdales which was, hilariously, crawling with men buying last minute gifts. I smiled at some of the gift items. Saw one guy buying lingerie (come on- really?), saw another buying a hat (I am optimistically assuming he has the kind of wife who would wear such a hat)... After NOTHING fit me in a way that was acceptable for public viewing, I found myself in Fragrances. I had a store credit burning a hole in my wallet anyway so I decided today was a good day to buy myself that perfume I've wanted since Christmas.
And the cashier asked me "Can I giftwrap this for your girlfriend?"
I paused just then. Somehow her thinking I was a lesbian seemed less annoying than thinking I was single to I said "no thank you. I would like to wrap it."
Then, still on my insane and deplorable "it's just like any other Saturday" bullshit, I went to Trader Joe's. SWEET JESUS. This place is like MECCA for men (I should have known) -- so many pre-cooked and premade items that you could say "honey, look what I made you" with pride, confident it will not give her food-poisoning.
So I did the only rational thing I could-- bought cookies, cheese, bread, ice cream, cheese poofs and ANOTHER bottle of champagne (I already have one at home). As always, the epitome of healthy eating.
When I was paying, the cashier told me "oh, this has been our best seller today. He'll love this. What did you get for Valentine's Day?"
So I told her: perfume.
Well, what have we learned from this today, children?
While I am not the biggest fan of nuns, I really hate cashiers.
Happy Valentine's Day.