Well, last week was
Design Girl's birthday, and seeing as how I'm good friends with her, I decided to get her a nice present.
This week.
I was paying a visit to the Dick Blick to pick up some art supplies last night, and since I was close to Woodfield Mall, I stopped over to make a quick run to the
Sangria store for DG's gift.
You know... Hello Kitty:
Let me preface this by telling all guys that might find themselves in a similar predicament- This .. place.. You have to check your balls at the front door. It's a pink and white fairytale. This place smells like sweet tarts and
toy erasers. I think the terminology I'm looking for to best describe it is "
emasculating".
Three employees, all female, were deeply entrenched in their work, and seemingly dismissed me as a lost shopper. Nope. I had a purpose. A raison d'étre, if you will. I approached one of the girls and asked her if they carried anything with a green frog character (I know this one because my friend Rachel goes apeshit when SHE sees the
green guy).
"Oh. Do you want Mon Chi Chi or Mon Ci La La?*", she asks.
"Either. Whatever you have. Surprise me."So she runs...well, it was a waddling sort of gait... and while she's off in the back of the store, I start to tremble. Softly at first. You see, it's the store's overwhelmingly saccharine decor...it's the overly-effervescent feminine toys...all of which contribute to a reaction somewhat akin to
insulin shock.When the sales clerk returned, she had three notepads in tow. Now, don't get me wrong- I wanted to choose something -
ANYTHING - and get the hell out as soon as humanly possible. However, I didn't make this trip for a few lame notepads. I waved her off, and started looking around at some of the other offerings.
This was when the room began to spin.All I could see was a variety of products, such as stationery, notebooks, dishware, stickers, patches, wristwatches, pens, pencils, pencil cases, calendars, jewelry, keychains, posters, baseball caps, mugs, makeup kits, novelty pillows, inflatable chairs, miniature candy dispensers, lip gloss, toothbrushes, baby soaps, and whatever else you can imagine that could keep a 4 year old drooling for hours.
By this point the other two girls were beginning to notice me. I was flushed, and everything I drew my gaze upon brought a
queer crook to my mouth and a nervous chuckle. I was positive that I would be able to catch a glimpse of whatever remained of my testosterone, creeping towards the exit, should I turn on my heels at that moment.
"GIFT CERTIFFERCATE!" I blurted.
"Wha..?"
"You sell those, right? GO!" I exclaimed, hurriedly shoving my credit card into her hand.
Hello Kitty/Sangrio is missing out on a phenomenal opportunity here. I truly believe that they could establish their own Funniest Home Videos if they just taped the average guys' reactions in their retail stores.
As soon as the clerk finished up behind the counter, she presented me with the gift card, complete with, yes, you guessed it, a
big pink plastic bag. I can't tell you what I said when I saw this- not because I was rude, but because I was losing my shit entirely by this point- but I basically handed the bag back to the girl, shook my head and popped the card into my pocket before I swooped my way back out into the mall again. I pulled my cap low over my face to guard myself from being recognized (God forbid- that would just clear up ANY rumors there've been about THAT aspect of my life, huh? ;)), and had an immediate urge to find a dark bar and buy myself a pint of beer to chug.
Epilogue:
DG liked the card. She appreciated the effort on my behalf. She enjoyed the story you just read here. And most importantly, she doesn't expect me to keep her company when she goes to spend the damned thing.
Amen.
* If I get the names wrong, save yourself the comment to correct me.
