I'm coveting the high-collared sleeveless black coat in the display window at Lord and Taylor. Not that I've ever shopped at Lord and Taylor, and not that I have the disposable income to purchase anything from there at the present moment; but each time I pass that window I give a sort of pained sigh, Garth Algar style: "It will be mine. Oh yes; it will be mine."
I'm jonesing for the damn thing!
Also seen, on the corner of Boylston and Exeter, last Thursday at 5:10 pm: a gentleman driving a white Dining In car, playing a harmonica (with both hands I might add, really quite impressive), jamming out to Walk This Way. This sight might have been awesome had it not been so quintessentially reckless. Actually, I take that back, it was still a wondrous thing to behold, albeit a frightening one. Friends don't let friends drive and rock out on the harmonica.
And lastly, why are the females at Best Cellars on Boylston so goddamn douchy? I went in to buy a bottle of wine and waited patiently while two saleswomen gabbed leisurely with a couple from New York. They were ever so amiable and attentive to these people, but never bothered to acknowledge me. Whatever; it could be I'd forgotten to remove my invisibility cloak. I do that from time to time. Plus, the very same thing happened the only other time I went in there, so I wasn't really all that surprised. On I waited, benignly clutching my bottle of Prosecco. When an older lady came in asking for a free sample of wine and was greeted cordially, with a would you like to try today's white, or red? I continued to stand there. Eventually I returned the frigging bottle to its shelf and quietly left. I know when I'm not wanted. (Sniff.) Those broads need a lesson in customer service. In this economy, can any business afford to be blase towards potential customers? Especially if said customer is a boozehound who passes by your wine store on a daily basis?
Que sera. xoxo
PS: Can you tell I'm on the rag?
PPS: I've photoshopped my reflection in the glass out of the picture above, because my hair was a hot mess and my mouth was hanging wide open as I snapped it. Not a flattering image. xoxo
Bitches! Fuck those ducks!
Posted by: Sissy | August 14, 2009 at 02:44 PM
Fuck those ducks is right! I wanted prosecco dammit! I'm glad you agree with me, I was afraid I'd been too harsh.
Posted by: the odd broad | August 14, 2009 at 06:24 PM
i am actually honoured that my catchphrase swear of "fuckaduck" has crossed the Atlantic and hope, maybe one day, it'll be in a dictionary.
also, i frequently call a fart a "grumpy duck", you're welcome to use this too.
Posted by: Steph | August 15, 2009 at 02:28 PM
It has totally crossed the Atlantic! Come to Boston, you'll see it splayed across playgrounds! LOL
Posted by: the odd broad | August 16, 2009 at 09:38 PM