And last night wasn't even the most pathetic night of my life.
And that I find to be truly pathetic.
Last night was distressing on so many levels. I had experienced a major jewelry attack over the weekend. Girlie girls know about this particular malady. During a jewelry attack, your jewelry seems to triple in number, but you just can't find that one favorite piece you really want to wear.
So, last night I stopped at the triple B on the way home.
A close friend commented on his shock to hear that I even knew where Bed, Bath & Beyond was. I was proud of that. Proud of my success in coming across as totally oblivious of modern and society popular consumer avenues.
But I have, as a matter of fact, recently discovered the triple B. And, I must say, at the right time - and given the right circumstances - BB&B could be quite dangerous. Kind of like Target. But more targeted. No kids' clothes, motor oil or video games to distract you.
Just aisles and aisles of gadgets you never imagined but which, in the most unlikely way, stand to make your life infinitely better.
But this Triple B stop was quite specific. I stopped at 'the Bed' to purchase a jewelry organizer. And only a jewelry organizer.
Ignore the fact that I have four jewelry boxes I love. Ignore the fact that I have a fifth box I don't really love but I can't throw away because it reminds me of a special time in my life.
The point is that I needed a more officially systematized method of organizing my trinkets.
And so it was that I returned home from a long day in the diamond mines to a counter spilling over with gems. And two new Survivor-style organizers just calling out for sparkly stuff to fill their orifi.
So I gently placed my beady bracelets in one compartment. My watches consumed another space. My sparkly barrettes another.
Then it was time to box in my brooches.
And my life began taking shape once again.
Until I got to the necklaces.
I've got a lot of necklaces. And I've always just laid them out together, assuming that necklaces enjoy each others' company. I know if I were a choker, I'd prefer the company of a good string of beads or maybe a long, light pendant. Let the pinky rings and diamond studs go somewhere else.
But despite my new organizer, my necklaces were beginning to resemble the mass they so often resemble. And I knew it would be just a short period of time before my next jewelry attack.
And so I turned to Boo.
Because Boo's so helpful in these matters.
But Boo had no opinion. Boo was quite focused on trying to knock a red ruby drop earring onto the floor from the dresser.
And that's when I put all the rubies together. Ruby earrings, ruby bracelets, ruby necklaces and two ruby brooches. All the rubies came together in one compartment. And it was nice.
Then I did the black stuff.
And then anything blue or green.
And then anything with that brownish-goldish-yellow color I tend to wear a lot. People always comment how my hair and eyes match my earrings when I wear that color.
But it wasn't until I had convened a little group of clear and white stones in silver settings that I knew how pathetic I was. Oh god...I had turned into someone with too much time on their hands.
But the thing is, I don't have too much time
Mostly, I have too little time.
But, nonetheless, it felt pathetic. And I did too.
Perhaps it was just the culmination of the day's events. Earlier in the day, I had been equally pathetic. In the Nextel store.
I had walked into the Nextel store, prepared to buy. The clerk immediately sensed my greenery and swooped upon me.
"I broke my earpiece. I need another one."
I was an easy customer. I knew what I needed and I had the means to get it.
Yeah, that clerk was looking at the easiest twenty bucks of his life.
But he didn't want the twenty buck sale. And so, he convinced me that I needed the thirty buck earpiece.
I had a meeting and I had a running meter. I had no time to deliberate. I went for the pricey one.
And then the clerk made a major mistake.
A 'HUGE" mistake'...
The clerk, sensing more green entering the store, told me he'd ring up the sale "in just a minute." And he promptly disappeared. Disappeared straight into the arms of two guys claiming to need a phone, not just an earpiece.
I waited patiently for "just a minute" to pass. And it most definitely did. "Just a minute" passed. Then another minute passed. I finally asked the other clerk to ring up the sale. Even though I knew there would be commission issues.
"Do you guys work on commission?" I asked the new clerk.
Yeah. Is it obvious? asked the clerk in response.
D-u-u-u-u-u-h-h-h-h-h !!!! I answered.
Actually, duh wasn't my answer. My answer was merely a confirmation that the commission-based system was kind of easy to smell in Nextelville.
But the new clerk was sweet. And I delivered my answer gently - with a smile - and left the store with my thirty dollars worth of earpiece.
As I walked to my meeting, I struggled. First I struggled to fit the earpiece in my earhole. You never think about the size of your ear until you've got a new plastic bowling-ball sized earpiece to shove into it.
And then I struggled with my revenge.
The problem is, I'm generally not into revenge.
But unfortunately, I've seen Pretty Woman a few too many times. And although it's clearly the finest film noir of our time, it's also inspired me to 'get back' at those who treat me like a whore and nothing more.
If Julia Roberts - the Queen of Sweet - can bitch out at a snooty saleswoman, I think I can certainly bitch out at a completely shallow and short-sighted salesman.
How did the Nextel clerk know that I was only worth thirty bucks? For all he knew, I could have been president of a company. I could have been testing him to see if he was the guy I wanted to buy our new corporate phone system from. I could have been ready to upgrade. How did he know?
But he assumed that a thirty dollar sale was my limit. And so he totally blew me off.
Yes, I got blown off by a Nextel salesman.
And now my jewelry's organized by color.
My life is pathetic.
But I planned my revenge. I began collecting empty Nextel phone boxes. I would amass a large stock of empty Nextel boxes, put them into HUGE Nextel shopping bags, put on a really expensive suit, wrestle my hair into a conservative bun and return to Nextel with a big &^%$#@ wide-brimmed hat.
I would walk in and ask if the clerk remembered me.
And then, with a calm voice and white-gloved wagging hand, I would deliver the critical line:
"You guys work on commission, right? Big mistake. B-I-G. HUGE! Excuse me, I have to go shopping for more phones now!"
And with that, I would swing around on my Manolo stilts and walk out.
So, of course my revenge has yet to be exacted.
But it will actually never be exacted. Perfected, perhaps. But never exacted. Because I never actually implement any of my revenge strategies. I just salivate while considering them passionately. I'm just your basic revenge dreamer. Lots of talk. No action.
By the way, I love my new earpiece. I mean L-O-V-E. I recommend it for everybody with a phone. Or an ear.
So today I'm headed back to the triple B. Or maybe Target.
I've decided to buy a gym bag with an organizational system installed.
I've decided I'd like to just grab my shampoo and goggles and water bottle out of my bag without wading through running bras, undies and coolmax. I want a bag that separates the equipment from the apparel. The men from the boys. The wheat from the chaff. I want my Q-tips in a place where there's no contact with my smelly, wet socks.
I want more compartments.
Because this compartment thing is pretty fun.
And it's easy.
The next step is compartmentalization of the auditory system I need an earpiece for each ear. One for when my right ear's available. And another for those days when I favor my left.
And I'm going back to that infamous Nextel store to make the purchase.
And I'll ask for dissy-man.
And I'll ask if he has another thirty buck earpiece.
And I'll show my big fat wad of credit cards.
And just when he thinks he's got the sale, I'll say:
"You guys work on commission, right? In that case, I'll go to somebody who wants my thirty bucks."
And with that, I'll swing around on my Manolo stilts (or my ASICS Womens GEL 1090's, depending on the time of day) and walk out.