The other day (and in my world that could be anywhere between yesterday and 5 months ago) my co-workers burst into my office still high from their previous night’s shopping experience. See, we no longer have malls in my city, we have experiences and the latest experience is the high end shopping strip known as The Domain – a high end retail center for women who have money to burn and absolutely no use for the phrase “Keep Austin Weird”. Here’s the thing, I’m really not your go-to girl when you feel like busting into someone’s office to scream “the Prada shoes were on sale for $300!” but they did and I managed to get a plausible, “oh my GOD! You’re KIDDING! $300?!?!” out while keeping my eyes fixed forward (although the muscles were straining desperately to pull them skyward). I did such a great job that I got to hear about the AMAZING Fendi and Armani sales, too. Go me.

Since we’ve already gotten it out there that I’m a nerd, let me add that I dress appropriately. I’m about function and not style which is why my InStyle magazine had to go away – something about choking at the idea of a $30,000 purse that only held things let me know I was not their target demographic. A $30,000 purse should make an iPod look like an abacus. A $30,000 purse should act as a phone, a camera, a remote control for my H2, set appointments and I should be able to swipe it across credit card machines without having to bother to pull out an actual card.

After enduring the shrieks and the stories of everyone standing around in the same dressing room, (which gives me the willies) I got to listen to the aftermath. (Imagine, three of your closest friends and you standing in a dressing room tossing clothes around. Well, the whole idea of MY closest friends made me bust out laughing. Anyone who knows me, picture Kendra, April, Anna and me 1) squealing and 2) swapping clothes while drunk in the same stall – you can even pretend we’re a comparable size – it’s just silly.) The main storyteller went on to mention how she’d found the perfect size nothing dress that she dashed home and put on a little sexy runway show for her husband. The actual story and the demonstration were hysterical as she took exaggerated steps around my office and did a few dramatic turns. I’m all for physical comedy especially while trying to shake the idea of my friends in the same changing room giggling.

Then she says something like “my husband was so excited, you see his previous wife who passed away was FAT! (and she said this like the woman molested toddlers and posted the pictures on the internet) she could have never worked her way into a dress like mine!”

Wow.

…and I wondered if she really believed that’s all that matters. If her eulogy would go, “well, she wasn’t a very kind person, but she was incredibly skinny. In fact, she was a downright beyoatch, but she wouldn’t let that hold her back from slinking into a size 1!”

… and here I thought it was more important to be kind.

… and here I thought people would have the common sense to know that I’m THE wrong gal to come slapping down “FAT” people to if you were expecting any sort of sympathetic ear.