Scenario 1: I visit a swank boutique last week. A girlfriend recently bought a gorgeous Kill City leather jacket and I wanted one. The boutique hunts one down for me and I am delighted to go and try it on. A beautiful and uber sassy boy behind the counter helps me. I try the jacket on and return it to him. The following conversation ensues:
Him: Uh oh. (Makes a sad face.)
Me: I love it but I did not realize it is cropped in the back.
Him: Girl, who cares! Everyone loves cropped!
Me: Everyone? Maybe Mary Kate and Ashley but not necessarily everyone.
Him: Didn't you say your friend wore this jacket the other night?
Me: Yes, but I did not realize it was cropped only in the back.
Him: (with venom) PROBABLY BECAUSE IT LOOKED GOOD!
Me: 1. Jacket: 0. Final verdict: Negative. There are various methods to sell me a gorgeous garment. The verbal betch slap method is not on that list. But bless that sassy heart.
Scenario 2: Shopping in Bloomingdales for possible holiday gifts for JMac, I peruse one section of the men's department. An older, well-dressed, distinguished- looking man appears to be looking for something. From about ten feet away, he politely calls to the Associate with whom I am speaking.
Him: and says, "Show me to your pants, please?"
Her: Brief pause. Then: Excuse me?
Her: My panties?
Him, very slowly: Show me to your pants. Please.
Her: Hand over mouth, mortified look on face. Then: Oh, I am terribly sorry. Men's pants are one section behind you.
Yes, he phrased the question in an unusual way. BUT even the randiest codger does not walk into Bloomingdales during the holiday shopping frenzy and ask one of the Associates: Show me your panties. Poor girl. She needed a cocktail on the spot. Final verdict: Positive because I witnessed it and it was hilarious. And you know she laughed her arse off later. At least I hope she did.