old lady at macy's is an asshole

this post is late for 3 reasons:
1. - i am a lazy blogger
2. - blogging at work is prohibited
3. - my husband would have known he was getting some cologne for Christmas

here is the conversation as it went down between myself and the old "lady" working the cologne dept at macy's.

me: hi, i'd like to buy said cologne
old lady: ok, would you like the gift set? it comes with deodorant.
me: no thank you. (my husband has not ever used the extras that are put in the gift sets, ie deodorant, shaving cream, etc.)
old lady: but it's the same price.
me: no, thanks, i just want the cologne.
old lady: but it's the same price.
me: yea, got it, same price. i don't want the gift set, just the cologne. he doesn't use any of that other stuff.
old lady: (said in a disapproving old lady glare staring over top her jeweled glasses) WHAT?! your husband doesn't wear deodorant??!! come on now ma'am!
me: first of all, don't ever call someone who could be your granddaughter "ma'am." second, yes asshole, my husband does wear deodorant. my boyfriend,*(1) however, does not. he's also a whitesnake groupie and eats babies for a bedtime snack. now, be a peach and wrap that shit up for me there granny.


*(1) i don't really have a boyfriend.

*yep, santa is still an asshole. in fact old lady at macy's was probably mrs clause.


*jenn and shan - one of those tickers is for you guys:)

santa is a real asshole

really. i'm over him and his holly jolliness. two saturday's ago i was getting ready to go to my mother's for her Christmas celebration and the sound of firetrucks and horns stopped me in the middle of getting ready. they were in my development and sounded like they were right outside my door. i jumped up in eager delight hoping to see blood and guts (it's the nurse in me) or at the very least a robber running for his life. sadly, it was none of the above. nothing but santa clause on top of a fire truck driving up our cul-de-sac. there was plenty of honking and yelling "Merry Christmas" and jingling of bells. of course the neighborhood kids went running out to see santa and get candy canes that he was throwing.

i stood in my bathroom and cried as i watched the whole scene. happy kids excited to see santa. i cried because we may never have kids that will run down our driveway when santa comes. we won't be the parents smiling and waving from the doorway with our ridiculous holiday sweaters on. i cried until my neck was blotchy and my face was full of snot while my dog howled at the horns. to make myself feel better i tossed around the idea of running outside topless all mardi-gras style for some candy canes, but it was way too cold for my girls, and, i don't think santa would have liked that. you know, just in case he decides to bring me a baby for Christmas. in that case, i take it back, he's not an asshole.