Thursday, January 21, 2010
I had to shop for an outfit this weekend. First of all, bad move to go out when the "weekend people" are out.
Now, because I am a person with a flexible schedule I enjoy the blessing of being able to do activities when people are working. I never go to popular city destinations on the weekend because the "weekend people" come out.
What are weekend people you might ask?
They are the people who populate places like the mall, the grocery store, kitchy restaurants, book stores, libraries, walking paths and furniture stores on Saturday and Sunday in their weekend clothes...jeans that are pressed, track suits made of velour, blond pony-tail-wearing-girls in matching sweater sets, pants and spiffy coats, with very small purses, very big sunglasses and just about gay boyfriends. You know who I mean....
I have nothing against weekend people.
Actually, they look at my weekend clothes....that are a step down from my regular fancy "jeans and a t-shirt" weekday look...and maybe think I might be homeless...
So, anyhow...I am at the Eaton's Centre trying not to kill myself...I am all hot because I overdressed and am wearing a down coat inside for 5 hours...I have taken my clothes on and off so many times that I have begun to discard layers in my purse....I am sure someone thought I was shoplifting....my hat has been pulled on and off so often that my hair looks like a squirrel messed in it...and I am on way out of the mall...and thought I would try and sit down before the long walk home in my fake, salt covered UGG boots...classy...suck it, people...and I cannot find a seat....because all of the "weekend" husbands and boyfriends are sitting in them looking more miserable than me....if that is possible....and the last seat I look at is being taken by...and I am not shitting you people....a chihuahua in a Burberry coat....and MATCHING SCARF....sitting beside a girl on a bedazzled Blackberry wearing a spiffy coat...holding a too small purse...you get the picture.
And you know all I could think?
Life is fucked when a dog is dressed better than me.