Saturday was 20x the points day at Shoppers. I counted down to the day - this wasn't just any 20x the points day - it was THE day. I was only 3800 points away from my $75 shopping spree, and this points day would put me over.
I had one item in mind - I've been visiting for the last six months: Eternity Summer, and if I could put a little sample smell in this blog so when you click, it blows out the scent, I would. You would love it as much as I do.
Points were scarce this summer, however, and I simply couldn't justify buying an $89 bottle of perfume when there were so many other things needed. But if I got it for $14, that's much different.
The cosmetics girl has been really great with my montly visits. We've laughed - we've cried (I got my finger stuck in the handle of the plastic bag and it REALLY hurt!)... once I forgot my debit card on the counter and she ran into the parking lot after me to return it. Yes, she's nice and fun, but she's actually, in secret, an angel.
On Saturday, I filled my basket until it was overflowing. Yet, as I stood at the counter, awaiting my turn nto pay, I searched for my beloved scent and could not find it!
Someone once warned me about this - a tall, extremely thin cosmetics chick at a different Shoppers. "You know," she snapped, her perfect make-up sitting so perfectly on her perfect nose, "You should buy it now - it's a limited time scent. It's only around for the summer." I squirmed, trying to get away from her. I'm sure tall thin woman spends $89 just on a tube of lipstick, but me - well, I can't justify that when children are starving in - well, wherever they're starving.
But tall thin woman had been right! I was too late! My perfume was GONE!
The nice cosmetician did not recognize me when I walked in... I got my hair cut this weekend so it's pretty different, and she had not seen my new glasses. Timidly, I placed down my basket, struggling to keep the tissue boxes within the confines of the red plastic, and asked, "is it gone? The Eternity Summer?"
"Yes," the nice cosmetician told me. "They recalled it last month." Then, a look of recognition came over her face and she cried, "I'm so glad you came back! I didn't have your name or anything, but I put one aside for you!"
I wanted to rush around the counter and hug her. Her name, I finally found out, is Lisa, and her shift ended in 20 minutes. Had I come in a little later, I would have missed her, missed my perfume and been Eternally bummed out. When I told Himself it was one of the nicest things anyone had ever done for me, he said, "Wow, people don't do that many nice things for you, eh?" I smacked him in the arm.
So Lisa the cosmetician at Shoppers is my new hero, and I even sprayed a bit of perfume on last night before bed so I could smell it all night and have pleasant dreams. Friends, I am in love. (With the perfume, of course. Oh! And Himself too! Woo, that could have been disasterous.)
There is a secret in our apartment complex - a secret no one talks about, but everyone seems to know. The dryer is broken, and it remains on "dry" forever. Providing no one plugs money into the machine, it continues to dry without stopping. So, for a mere $4.50, I did three loads of laundry last night - but paid a severe price for my dishonesty.
See, without the dryer turning off, someone who, say, forgets they put laundry in the dryer in the first place, the clothes continue to dry. For hours. For four hours.
I gasped when I remembered. What would become of my clothes?
Barbie-sized shirts, let me tell you, and static unlike anything the world has seen. I'm now a human electric current, and I can't get my hair to settle down. That was not my punishment, however. That was just the result of me being stupid, which is nothing new.
I unloaded the extremely-static-y laundry from the dryer, and put it atop one of the washing machines while I re-loaded that same dryer (in order to get the free drying). My mound of electrically-charged clothing toppled over while my back was turned, and my little stripey underwear tumbled to the ground.
Through the inch-wide crack between the washing machine and the wall.
This room is a two-stepping room - it takes two steps to walk through it. So, head on the door knob, I reached between the crack. I could feel the material, but could not pinch it enough to pull my stripey underwear to safety. Just a bit further - a bit more - a bit more - and, I'm stuck.
Yep, stuck with my arm between the wall of the laundry room and a 500 pound washing machine, reaching for a pair of underwear I really should deny owning in the first place, with my head resting on the door knob. If one other person - just ONE in a building full of tennants, also decided it was time to do laundry, that would be the end of me.
For fifteen minutes I crouched there, praying no one opened the door, trying to push the washing machine even just a little so I could retract my arm. Turned out in addition to being a ridiculous idiot, I also have superpowers. After many tries, I was able to rock the washing machine just enough to free my forearm. No one came in, thank God, but the heat in that room was stifling! I needed a shot of whiskey when I returned to the apartment just to clear the dryer fluff from my nose and throat.
But I did, however, return with my stripey underwear.
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