A Taxing Experience

I went to Macy's last night to buy a couple of maternity-wear items. Actually I did that instead of hitting up the Girl Scouts at Harmon’s, which I plan to do tomorrow when I have some time. Anyway, my mom correctly put it when she once said, “Buying maternity clothes is like buying a swimming suit.” If it looks mostly ok, you buy it and then never look in the mirror again.

I picked out two t-shirts to wear to the gym and then found a really cute black ¾-sleeve sweater that would work with anything. A wardrobe staple, if you will. I decided I would get that too. I got to the counter to pay and the old lady—and I mean old as the hills—saw me walk up as she was walking away. Instead of turning around to help me, she just kept walking away.

My advice here is don't walk away from a pregnant lady. Just don't even do anything she doesn't like.

I stood there for five minutes, which is pretty lengthy when you are waiting to pay and there's NOBODY ELSE IN LINE.

Another customer came out of the dressing room and said, "Oh she went to get a drink of water. She’s been working really hard." Growing ever grumpier, I wanted to say, "Well she could have rung me up when she saw me." It’s not like there was a line of ravenous Macy’s customers behind me. The baby factory right here works hard too—ring me up!

So Grandma Macy’s shuffled her way back. Did I mention that she is as old as the hills? I think Macy’s can’t hire anybody younger than 70. FINALLY, she started ringing me up and decided to tell me the price of each item as she rung it up. "And this one is $10.99. And this one...oh this is cute...what a cute color...when are you due? This one is $14.99."

Get on with it.

Then she gave me a total and I had to write a check, which I am basically against but that’s another long story. I was thisclose to being done with the check and she said, “Oh woops, dear me. I am sorry honey. Forgive me." Stop asking for forgiveness and tell me the problem!

She gave me the total before tax.

I voided the check and started writing check number two when she said, "Darn this thing, I can't get it off." She couldn't get the freaking sensor off the cute black sweater and then said, "Is there another one over there?" Yeah because maternity clothes are NEVER picked over. There are always TONS of sizes to go around. NO THERE'S NOT ANOTHER ONE!

Grandma then informed me, "Well I can take it down to security and have them take it off." Yes, because that’ll take so long I’ll just end up having my baby on the second floor of Macy’s. It took her nine years just to get a drink of water, I can only imagine the time necessary to get a sensor off a sweater. So I said, "Can you just take it off the sale?" And surprisingly that didn't phase her and she was able to do that lickedy split.

She gave me the total and I began with...you guessed it...check number three when she suddenly said, “Woops! Raspberries. Dear me. Honey, I did it again. That is the total before tax."

ARE YOU KIDDING ME? Seriously, my hormonal blood was boiling at this point. Any non-pregnant day of the week probably would have been ok but I just can't take it. I have ZERO patience.

Begin check number four.

When I was done and handed it to her she said, "When are you due again? Gosh you are so pretty. Look at those eyes." And I just thought, “Listen up grandma, I haven't the patience nor the time to let you try to make me feel better." And so I just said thank you and almost ran out of the store.

And then I cried when I got in the car. Because no good drama in my life right now doesn't end without tears.

*I don't dislike old people and I really appreciate compliments, especially when pregnant, but mood swings are inevitable at this point and some things are too much to handle.