My Day Today, Sad As It May Be I’m a member of Rue La La, this “exclusive online shopping community” which is in no way exclusive but lets you get some sweet deals on leftover stuff the mother companies don’t want. I have been mindfully eyeing (why did I want to say “eyefully minding”…?) the Hanky Panky sale that opened this morning at 11am. Hanky Panky makes one-size-fits-all (ha! I think they call that “stretchy” nowadays) lace underwear of which I am particularly fond; they usually cost $16-$18 each which is not my jam because I’m broke. Also, that’s just too much money for underwear when you could be spending it on a filet. Let’s get real. So anyway, I’m at work, I get the e-mail at 10:59 and begin perusing my options within the sale, I agonise over which tri-color set to choose (do I want purple or pink with the green? or neither?). I finally choose something after haggling and wavering with myself on price, look, and style. I click triumphantly and the link says “Choose Quantity: SOLD OUT”. I balk. But I got here at 10:59 to casually peruse your offerings, Rue La La! It’s 11:08 (I did take my sweet time choosing a set). I click to my 2nd choice— also sold out. I begin to panic— this sale I’ve waited a whole week for (that’s a lot for me, famously born without a set of virtues that include patience, temperance, and selflessness) is going to slip through my fingers! I click on my final choice, 2 green thongs and a pink. There is ONE left. Rue (they sound like a person this way, so I have someone at which to direct my anger) has the option for you to normally check out (onerous and annoying, also a possibility you will lose your shopping cart contents) or they have an enticing button that says “CLICK TO BUY IT RIGHT NOW”. In my intense lace-underwear-induced panic, I click, and Rue assures me that the product is mine. Then it calmly continues, telling me the purchase has been charged to my MasterCard. I don’t have a MasterCard. A few weeks ago, my mother purchased me the gift of a pair of beautiful summertime Sperrys, which I had been coveting for years. Literally, years. Rue had a sale, I told her about it, and she gifted my my coveted boat shoes via MasterCard since she wasn’t the member on Rue La La. But Rue kept her card and used it as the primary one! FOILED AGAIN. So then I had to call and explain all this to my mother, who now has documented proof (spazzy e-mail and verbal confirmation) that I am even nuttier than she previously assumed. Barney. Ticketmaster sent me an e-mail today saying, as they always do, and they said that the results of the top story they display to me in that e-mail are tailored to my personal preferences. This is why I usually get country music shows in North Carolina. Today, I got the above. Ticketmaster thinks I, a 24 year-old Brooklyn-dweller, would like to go see Barney (on stage!) in Westchester. I never deigned to watch Barney as a child, so why would I start now? OH…Would you like some ice for that burn, big purple dinosaur?

My Day Today, Sad As It May Be

I’m a member of Rue La La, this “exclusive online shopping community” which is in no way exclusive but lets you get some sweet deals on leftover stuff the mother companies don’t want. I have been mindfully eyeing (why did I want to say “eyefully minding”…?) the Hanky Panky sale that opened this morning at 11am. Hanky Panky makes one-size-fits-all (ha! I think they call that “stretchy” nowadays) lace underwear of which I am particularly fond; they usually cost $16-$18 each which is not my jam because I’m broke. Also, that’s just too much money for underwear when you could be spending it on a filet. Let’s get real.

So anyway, I’m at work, I get the e-mail at 10:59 and begin perusing my options within the sale, I agonise over which tri-color set to choose (do I want purple or pink with the green? or neither?). I finally choose something after haggling and wavering with myself on price, look, and style. I click triumphantly and the link says “Choose Quantity: SOLD OUT”. I balk. But I got here at 10:59 to casually peruse your offerings, Rue La La! It’s 11:08 (I did take my sweet time choosing a set). I click to my 2nd choice— also sold out. I begin to panic— this sale I’ve waited a whole week for (that’s a lot for me, famously born without a set of virtues that include patience, temperance, and selflessness) is going to slip through my fingers!

I click on my final choice, 2 green thongs and a pink. There is ONE left. Rue (they sound like a person this way, so I have someone at which to direct my anger) has the option for you to normally check out (onerous and annoying, also a possibility you will lose your shopping cart contents) or they have an enticing button that says “CLICK TO BUY IT RIGHT NOW”. In my intense lace-underwear-induced panic, I click, and Rue assures me that the product is mine. Then it calmly continues, telling me the purchase has been charged to my MasterCard. I don’t have a MasterCard.

A few weeks ago, my mother purchased me the gift of a pair of beautiful summertime Sperrys, which I had been coveting for years. Literally, years. Rue had a sale, I told her about it, and she gifted my my coveted boat shoes via MasterCard since she wasn’t the member on Rue La La. But Rue kept her card and used it as the primary one! FOILED AGAIN. So then I had to call and explain all this to my mother, who now has documented proof (spazzy e-mail and verbal confirmation) that I am even nuttier than she previously assumed.

Barney.

Ticketmaster sent me an e-mail today saying, as they always do, and they said that the results of the top story they display to me in that e-mail are tailored to my personal preferences. This is why I usually get country music shows in North Carolina. Today, I got the above. Ticketmaster thinks I, a 24 year-old Brooklyn-dweller, would like to go see Barney (on stage!) in Westchester. I never deigned to watch Barney as a child, so why would I start now? OH…Would you like some ice for that burn, big purple dinosaur?