I packed Ella up with plenty of books to read and set off to root through the end of season sales to buy some summer clothes for our trip to Las Vegas. Upon arriving at my favorite department store I found the sale of the summer happening, everything with a yellow dot was 70% off the already marked down prices. Designer summer clothes at garage sale prices, a lovely event but challenging as one must spend time excavating the racks to find the right size. Not a bad way to spend and afternoon as the atmosphere is nice and the salesladies work on commission still so they are very helpfull and tolerant - my kind of place.
Thirty minutes in I made my way towards the dressing room just next to the exasperated old man sitting on the couch with purse in his lap. It didn’t match his shoes so I knew that his wife was in there trying something on. While I maneuvered the stroller and armload of summer tops into a dressing room I heard a crinkly old voice ask him
“What do you think of this color?”
I heard him reply with the enthusiasm of soup
“Oh, just lovely darling, just lovely.”
And then the crinkly voice “Oh heavens, maybe I should get the peach…”
I lost myself in the forty blouses I wanted to try on piling the ones I liked back in the stroller and returning the ones that made me look like I belonged at a NASCAR race back to the hangers. Ella was busy singing and making silly faces at herself in the mirror when I was startled by a knock on my little door.
“Did you find some clothes in there when you went in?” asked the crinkly voice.
“No, sorry just what we brought in.” I replied
“Oh dear,” she said “I think I must’ve forgotten what room I was in.”
“Oh no” I added, sure that she would find them. There couldn’t be more than eight dressing rooms in this section. I heard several more knocks on other little doors and appeals for clothes found in the dressing room to no avail, a pair of yellow shorts and a white top were missing. Then I heard
“No, no, I’m wearing the one’s I’m going to buy but I can’t find the clothes I need to put back on!” The crinkly voice said a little higher pitched this time.
Poor purse holding husband replied “Well, for Chris’ sakes, how do you loose your shorts in a dressing room? What do you want me to do?”
Then crinkly voice “Oh dear, oh dear, I wonder if they’ll be able to ring these up while I’m wearing them. Hang on I’ll go look again.”
By this time I practically had my ear to the door listening (I know awful really, but I couldn’t make her shorts appear and who steals little old lady’s clothes anyway?) when finally I heard a third voice say
“Can I help you with something?”
The crinkly voice explains to the sales lady about how she can’t find her shorts or her top and how she thought she had lost where she was trying on clothes with all the excitement of the sale but her husband was still outside this dressing room and so that couldn’t be but she still doesn’t know were her clothes went. When the saleslady interrupts with
“Oh, those were yours?! Terribly sorry, I thought someone left those behind and stole what they tried on. I took them up to the office.”
Crinkly voice says “Oh, thank God.”
As they sort it all out, I feel total relief for Mrs. crinkly voice and bewilderment at the idea that the sales clerk didn’t wait a few minutes or ask around to see if she’s stealing someone’s short whilst they are asking their husband peach or blue. I make a mental note to never leave my clothes in the dressing room while shopping there in the future.