Dirty little secrets

Dirty little secrets

The longest truck I ever saw crossed in front of my path as I exited The Bravern Shops the day
before the trip to Michigan. It was running a red light, crisscrossing a major 5-way intersection on 8th Ave in Bellevue. I learned long ago from mother that bad things happen when I’m in the wrong
place at the wrong time.
Powerful forces led me to this rendezvous with missed destiny. Believe it or not, Neiman Marcus
has fairly cheap sales as well as free shipping. Another thing I learned from mother: shop in good
stores; you will save money in the long run. And I desperately wanted a top to wear to the reunion
gala, something a little flashy, something actually flattering. It may not be possible because I was
returning everything, had saved return for opening day of our very own, not that the Eastside is
my own , Neiman Marcus. There I was in farthest Bellevue, standing at one of the new store’s
doors, 9:50 am, lusting after the brilliant red Prada dress in the window. They don’t make Prada
in my size nor are the prices my size. A sweet, grungy man chatting me up was talking my favorite
“life is short”, full steam ahead theme. He was in a terrible car accident not long ago, but thank God
the Mercedes took all the punishment and he lived to shop again.
The doors opened and nobody rushed in because the entire staff seemed to be clapping as we
entered. Oh boy, they have expectations. I clapped in return, asked for customer service and was
practically carried up there. A few minutes later, I had a new NM credit card (10% off today only!)
and the 50$ no strings gift card I got in the mail all validated. I was ready to roll, an apt metaphor.
I’d brought a catalog page with 2 reasonable tops, but alas, the Bellevue NM is not about
reasonable prices, it’s about flash. Nicole took me under her wing and had me trying on $200 tops,
all appropriate for someone young, skinny and rich. She brought in a jacket “just because”. I
peeked at the price tag when I was safely alone: $695. Add 9.5% tax and well into the $700 range.
Yet another truism: if you have to look, you can’t afford it. Despite Nicole’s attempts to get me
into a designer outfit, I settled on wildly overpriced tights by Wolford I think it is. We parted
friends and I’m sure the tights will last a lifetime.
11 am and time to go, but an inner devil led me to the Mariposa Restaurant on the 3rd floor. Carol,
Josie and I had fun at the San Diego NM in December and I wanted to relive it, all alone and pressed
for time. Yes, friends, I got the same indescribable strawberry butter with popover, though I
left the consommé and cheese biscuit untouched. All was well until I tried to pay. They had trouble
with my temporary card, questioning me about my phone number. Some 20 minutes later I flagged
someone down to pay with a plastic card. Another 15 minutes. Long story, but I was annoyed and
left a 12% tip and a note that I should have been “comped”. Calling my credit card company to
verify rental car insurance, I asked if the charge had come through. Yes, for 3$ more than I paid.
Had they padded my tip? The mystery must wait until I can get on the internet again to post this.

I will save for later the story of how I broke the lid of my unbreakable Starbucks iced tea
cup while checking in at the airport and subsequently left Skip with an airplane seat full of ice
and water. Plastic bags and blankets saved the day.