The Escalator Escapade

One day while shopping at the mall, I observed a very attractive and well dressed woman step onto the grooved platform of the store escalator. She carried herself with a regalness rarely seen outside of Buckingham Palace. As I made my store purchase, I watched as the escalator carried her up to the next floor.

She stood on the conveyor step and surveyed the harried shoppers much as a queen looks down upon the peasants in her kingdom.  As she neared the crest of the escalator mountain, she prepared to disembark. In the process of shifting her position on the steps, one of her expensive high heeled pumps became lodged in the grooves of the people moving contraption. This well coiffed and fashionably dressed woman tried, to no avail, to daintily wiggle her foot in order to dislodge the stuck shoe. 

She was lifted ever closer to the peak when the sound of the stair steps collapsing into the metallic jaws of death caused the fashionista to panic.  Abandoning all sense of propriety, she grabbed her shoe with both hands in an effort to pry it loose from the vise-like grip the escalator had on it.

My jaw fell open as I watched the drama unfold. The words in my mind must have spilled out of my mouth, causing the sales associate I was working with to turn and view the spectacle. Before the sales associate could react, a young male sales associate jumped into action. He quickly pressed a button, stopping the escalator's movement while rushing to assist her.

When the escalator finally stopped, the heel of the costly shoe was wedged into the metal teeth of the landing platform. The young man wiggled the shoe back and forth as he tried to free the stiletto heel. Putting a little more muscle into his efforts, the shoe finally popped free........... minus the stiletto heel. Horrified, he reached down and plucked the heel from between the step's grooves. 

As the young man handed the mangled shoe and heel to the beautiful woman, she looked sadly upon the damage which had been wrought and began to laugh. She thanked the associate profusely for his chivalry. After plopping the detached heel into her handbag, she put the mauled shoe upon her foot and attempted to walk away.

The three inch height disparity between the two shoes made walking with any semblance of dignity utterly impossible. With unmatched confidence and majesty, she kicked off both shoes, flung them over her shoulder like a pair of flip flops, and walked through the store barefoot, as though she were a queen walking on a private beach.

As the sales associate and I watched the woman disappear into the racks of clothing, the sales associate leaned over and said "I would much rather walk up ten flights of stairs than trust my good shoes to a contraption that is similar to what the recycling plant uses to crush beer cans.". And with that comment, I realized all of the grace and majesty had left the building and just us commoners remained.

Kimmie the Krusher!

Recently while shopping for a new wallet at a department store, I overheard a conversation two women were having regarding their philosophy on child-rearing.  The women were quite obviously not on the same page and I became transfixed by their exchange of facial expressions and defiant body language.

"There's so much negativity in the world, we decided to avoid the use of negative words with our children.", the shorter woman said to the taller.  The look of utter disbelief on the taller friend's face almost made me burst out laughing.  Having always been the kind of person who likes to people-watch, and this was obviously going to be an entertaining exchange, I decided to see what transpired between these two women.

"I'm sorry, what?" was the taller woman's reply to the other woman's child-rearing philosophy.

"We only want to encourage good feelings, so we never use any language which creates a negative environment." the shorter woman said.

There was a slight pause as the two women stepped out of the way of an elderly woman who was looking at handbags.

As the elderly woman moved on, the taller woman asked "Soooooo, if Kimmie grabs the butcher knife from you while you are slicing food, you don't tell her to stop because it's dangerous and she could hurt herself?".

"Oh heavens no!  There are much better ways of instructing her than using negative words and emotions.", she said.

The two women continued their conversation as I picked up a wallet every now and again so I at least appeared to be shopping instead of eavesdropping.  Then, out of the corner of my eye, I noticed the child, Kimmie, who was the center of their conversation.

Little Kimmie caught my glance and a mischievous grin came across her face.  Having children myself, I recognized that look and knew that nothing good could come from it and I braced myself for what was bound to come next.

I overheard the taller woman ask "How exactly is she supposed to learn how to handle being told "no" in school, or even the real world, if she's not introduced to it at home first?".

The shorter woman replied "We don't tell her no, we just redirect her to something she can play with.  We figure Kimmie can figure out how to deal with the ugliness of the world later on in life when that time comes.  We think children should be allowed to be care-free and not bound by society's rules............".

As Kimmie's mother spoke, little Kimmie spun on her heel and ran like a linebacker at a bank of tall rounders full of jewelry.  

The crashing noise of the destruction she wrought upon those plastic and wood rounders was deafening. Earrings flew everywhere.  Necklaces were a tangled mess on the floor and looked very much like a commercial fishing net.  Bracelets rolled across the highly glossed marble floors, causing store personnel to dodge them as they came at a run to see who might have been injured in the "accident".

As store personnel quickly arrived, they saw Kimmie tossing jewelry everywhere.  A manager quickly got past their shock and asked loudly who the child's parent or guardian was.  I saw the taller woman quickly back away from her acquaintance while pointing to the woman stating "That's her mother".

Store security quickly helped Kimmie to her feet from where she was trying to swim in the pile of jewelry.  They started assessing the damage and directing the department personnel to add up the cost of all the damaged items.  The taller woman said to Kimmie's mother "Hmmm, I do believe your daughter is about to get a lesson in the real world's version of the word "no".  I hope you've got deep pockets.".

I'm pretty sure that despite the destruction Kimmie wrought on the store that day, she still has a bright future in front of her.  She should do great as either an MMA fighter or maybe even with the Roller Derby.  Heck, she has already created a great stage name for herself:  Kimmie the Krusher.

Written by Christie Bielss

Perfume Encounters

I like going to the big department stores and walking around looking at the latest styles and accessories.  I usually prefer to go on a weekday morning because the sales staff isn't overrun with lots of customers and they're happy to wait on you, although it can sometimes be a bit overwhelming with all of the salespeople asking "can I help you".

Recently I had to depart from my normal morning shopping time and make a trip in the afternoon.  It had obviously been a very slow sales day at the store as I was again overwhelmed with all of the salespeople.  As I made my way to the makeup counter to pick up some lipstick, out of the blue I got hit with a walk-by-spraying.  I'm sure you've seen the lovely young ladies who ask if you'd like to try their  perfume and, before you can respond, you get sprayed.  That's exactly what happened to my little unsuspecting self on that day. 

As I was coughing and sneezing from the trigger-happy perfume bomber, she asked what I thought of the fragrance designed by What's-her-name, the infamous model/actress.  I told her I thought it was a most interesting combination.  With her interest peaked, I went on to explain that it was a richly blended concoction of eau-de-skunk and kid's gym clothes which had not been washed in nearly a year, with a little after-taste of what's been lurking at the back of your refrigerator that's grown into an alien life form.  The perfume sniper was quite deflated.

The whole experience reminded me of when my neighbor's Chihuahua got sprayed by a skunk.  The poor unsuspecting dog was doing his business in the backyard and was in a most compromising position when he got bushwhacked by Pepe Le Pew.  Lucky for the dog, our neighbors called and we had tomato juice and V8 juice and were able to neutralize the horrific stench.  I wasn't so lucky and I could've really used a V8 at that moment.

The sneezing fits I was experiencing from the perfume terrorist wouldn't stop, and nearly out of tissues, I headed out to my car and tried using hand sanitizing wipes to wipe down the saturated areas of skin and clothing.  Not even alcohol based wipes could get rid of the smell.  And, with the scent of the wipes mingling with the perfume, I now smelled like a New York taxi cab.  I gave up and started driving home.  I had barely pulled out of the parking lot when a green cloud engulfed the interior of my car.  It became so thick I was forced to roll down the car windows to be able to breathe, which had unintended positive results.  The whole way home, through horrible road construction and rush hour traffic, I didn't have a single car tailgate me....... matter of fact, they all seemed to give me a very wide berth that day. 


by: Christie Bielss