Shopping Wars

I felt the need to contribute this nugget spawed by Sarah's blog entry from the other day.

I hit up Les Marshalls last evening in Canton on my way for a desperately needed mani\pedi. I had been in over the weekend and had been eyeballing some flat black knee high riding boots. I instead left with some conservative J & D's to wear to a wedding shower. I couldn't forget about those boots as I am sure you taller girls can attest that finding a good flat can at times can be an epic battle.

Fast forward to Thursday, I was trying to figure out what to wear to my Holiday party scheduled tonight and thought the boots would be perfect so back to Marshalls I went. I entered with a direct purpose which was secure aforementioned black boots. I hit the shoe department and there she was, The Manipulator. I scooted around the corner of the first aisle of boots to see her smack in the middle blocking access to other shoppers while she picked through the inventory. She looked me up and down and became quite anxious when I was looking past her in search of the boots. She spun around and began scanning the shelves to see what I was trying to get to. I realized I had the wrong aisle and scooted over the the next. Just as I made it to the end of the aisle she came around whipping around the corner and attempted to put her carriage between me and the boot display I was already reaching towards (mind you there was only about 10 inches of space). I will not go in to the fact that people with carriages in the shoe department are a huge pet peeve of mine to begin with. She said "excuse me", smirked and inched her carriage forward, obviously delusional in thinking that I may possibly would move out of the way so she could move right in front of me. I was not going to be taken by this pathetic attempt to intercept the boots. I smiled and said "oh why of course and then proceeded to move so close to the shelving unit my ovaries were being squished into some aingers thus forcing her to proceed behind me. I pulled out my size (7.5 in case any of you would like to give the gift of footware) and she began talking aloud. Wow that is great price, nice leather. Annoyed I shoved my hoof into the left boot and tried to view it in the mirror, which she of course blocked. The manipulator was unyeilding but I was not about to fall victim. She then began some diatribe about me wearing trouser socks with boots, and wouldn't I wear thicker socks when actually wearing the boots around, and how it is best pratice to buy boots a size bigger. I did not engage as Mama didn't raise no fool. I knew I had grabbed the last in my size which must have also been The Manipulator's size. In her last failed attempt she tossed a thinly veiled insult my way by suggesting someone of my height usually has a larger shoe size and she was suprised I would only be a 7 and a half....I almost responded "Lady at 33 I think I know my shoe size now back off bitch" instead I bit my tongue rangled on my pump and headed out with my prize.