Ah, let me tell you! Yesterday late afternoon, my cousin invites me to her job to take advantage of a sample sale her company's having. It was only going to be for 2 hours, from 4-6. She sends me a list of the prices they'll be charging. $15 for a duvet set. $15!!!!! Can you imagine that???? No sane female in full shopping mode can ignore that! I call my mom and she says she'll split the bill with me. I'm all set.
Now, the place was way over on the West Side. I get out at 5:00. No one has ever seen me run so fast. I couldn't have gotten there any sooner had I wings to fly. After all, every minute spent getting there was a minute less I had to shop. Oh, and I should mention. When I left the office, I thought, "Self! Bring a couple of bags for the stuff!" And so, I brought two little boutique bags. How naive. When I got there, my cousin thrusts a GARBAGE SIZED bag at me and tells me I'm late.
It was an open, white office space with boxes scattered all over. And wading through these boxes were women very intent on finding whatever they could. There was little chatter. I couldn't help but notice how focused they all were, digging through piles of stuff, picking up and discarding like they were old farmhands picking the crop of the season. Enough observation, I had boxes to go through.
I went through each and every box I laid my hands on. None escaped my scrutiny. Tossed aside empty ones, rummaged through prospective ones. Soon enough, I had fallen into the same rhythm all the other ladies had established. Pick up, examine, shove into the bag, pick up, examine, cast aside. Every so often, my cousin would come by and give me yet another garbage bag. Some time during all this, I unconsciously decided to just grab first and sort later. By the time a gentleman had announced it was 6:00, I had three very full bags, from bathroom accessories, to bath rugs, to towels, to pillow shams, to duvets, to quilts and pillow cases galore. Not bad for 40 minutes. My cousin helped me fold and stuff everything into two bags.
Mission accomplished. I must have I broke a record! The next hurdle for me was the actual transporting of all my goodies. That's where I gave pause. My loosely strung plan was to just walk back to Penn Station. It wasn't a far walk, but it never occurred to me I would have this much stuff to carry home. Nothing for it, I had to get a cab. And finding a cab in NY when it's raining is like finding the Holy Grail, impossible. Still, the Fates were kind and my cousin snagged one for me. By the way, WTF??? The prices for cabs are outrageous! Where do they get off?????? But I digress. :)
I weathered some hairy moments. Little old me lugging two huge bags of bed linen booty, descending into the depths of Penn Station, nearly losing my balance on the escalator several times as the bags threatened to take me down. Images of a broken me at the bottom of the steps wrapped around bags of linens kept popping into my head. Not a pretty way to go, I think. Waddling towards the next set of escalators, I quickly glanced at the monitor to note I had less than 15 minutes to buy a ticket, run to the platform and board before the next train departed. I then heard the announcement of the track for my train. Track 19. I was by track 13. Yikes!!!! Normally, it's no sweat, but when you're hauling about 100 pounds of linens, well, you get the picture.
But, made it I did. I even managed to find a spot where I could stash the goods and get a nice seat. As I settled in with my trusty iPod, I breathed a huge sigh of relief. It was only then I noticed that my aching hands were all a-tremble from the unaccustomed effort I forced from them. I smiled as I thought it was well worth it.
Would I do this again? Heh. If you need to ask, then you don't know me. :)
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