Crabby old ladies

Today's Baby Watch 2008 update: nothing to report. After yesterday's spotting and contractions post-appointment, today has been full of nothing at all. I am glad of it, to be honest. We're going to a movie tonight and I kind of like the idea of managing this birth next Tuesday, so there we have it.

Let me share with you my little story of annoyance from this weekend. I decided to run away from home for the afternoon, doing frivolous things like going to the post office to mail Jack's birthday party invitations and then stopping at a mall. I needed to return some pajamas and I wanted to get some new eye cream. Craziness, I know.

So I return the pajamas first. I park, relatively close to one of the store's entrances, and saunter in to the first counter I see. Let's remember: more than nine months pregnant, not in the mood for any bullshit.

As any fool knows, you can return anything at any counter in a department store. You don't need to go directly to the department from whence it came. So I inform the woman I have a return.

This particular store, Carson Pirie Scott, only appears to employ crabby women over the age of 60. I am not kidding, every time I have ever gone to Carson Pirie Scott, which is a lot over my lifetime, I have never been waited on by someone not matching this description.

This old lady looks at my return and says, "This is from the lingerie department!" Well, yes, they are pajamas, but I suppose they live over there. I look at her and say, "Well, you can return them at any counter, right?"

"Yes," she replies. "But then I would have to walk them all the way over there to put them back. So..."

I look at her and with as level a voice as possible, say, "Well I am nine-and-a-half-months pregnant and I call tell you, I would rather you walk over there than me."

She looks down at the belly and then looks annoyed and says, "Well. Umm. Yes. I guess it's fine then."

But my annoying clerks story doesn't stop there. I go on to the next establishment, Bloomingdales, where I am continuing my fruitless search for a new eye cream. A bit of history: I have been looking for a new eye cream to battle my genetic dark circles since August. No joke.

I have tried many, many creams to no avail. (If you have one you like, for chronic dark circles, please do share.) I have committed myself to trying samples of each brand for at least two weeks to see if they make a difference. Then I move on to a new brand.

At Sephora and Ulta, the clerks could not have been more helpful and willing to let me try different samples. They were so generous with their product, I probably could have kept myself in eye cream for free for the rest of the year.

My friend, she of the Supacoo blog, suggested Borghese eye cream. They only sell it around here at Bloomingdales, so that brings us to the present day with me standing at the Borghese counter.

The saleswoman asks if I need help and I say a friend recommended the eye cream and I would like to try it out before I commit to plunking down $100 for something that might not work.

She smoothly tells me they don't have samples. I respond by asking could she please make one up from her tester then, in a small pot? She looks annoyed, but goes to the drawer and pulls out a small pot and puts about a drop in there.

She then haughtily looks at me and says, "Well you can take this, but I can tell you, you'll need to use at LEAST a half-tube of this product before you see a difference. You won't see anything after using this small amount."

"Perhaps you could give me a little more then, so I can get a sense of it," I say. "I have been trying various eye creams looking for one that works and most stores have been willing to work with me."

She recoils, I am not kidding, and says in the most dramatic voice possible, "I can't POSSIBLY give you that much product. I find it hard to believe others did. What store would DO that?"

I reply, "Sephora. Which clearly appreciates my business more. I'm not trying to steal eye cream here. I am just trying to find something that works without wasting a lot of money."

She drops the pot in the bag, and says, "Sorry I could not be of more help. You can contact our manager if you would like. Here's her card."

Lady. You're selling COSMETICS. At a DEPARTMENT STORE. You're not Coco Chanel. get over yourself and divvy out the samples. GOD.