“Nice try. You know what I mean.” Edith unlocked a dressing room door with a tiny key. She opened it, and hung the clothing on two hooks. She placed a little plastic tag that had a big number “10” on one of the hooks. “Try these on. Ring the little bell when you’d like to exchange them.”
* * *
Alone in the tiny dressing room outfitted with a small padded bench and a skinny wall mirror, Annie surveyed the superfine on-sale clothes that hung on two hooks. It was like being in a cupcake shop. Everything looked delicious. Where to begin?
She grabbed the hanger with the cool green pants, unclipped them, wriggled them on, zipped up and looked in the mirror. Huh. There was a discrete knock on the door.
“Edith Flowers here.”
“Do you want to come in?” Annie asked.
“No. I can see perfectly fine through the crack. The green’s perky but the cut makes your legs look slightly deformed. No offense, but you could be mistaken for a chubby leprechaun.”
Annie frowned. “Thanks, Edith.”
“No problem. I love to help.”
Annie wriggled out of the pants and tossed them onto the bench. She snatched the black sexy V-neck cardigan off the hanger. The fabric felt divine but fell just below her boobs. She wasn’t that endowed so obviously this thing was a size two and not a size eight. She pulled it off and checked the label. It was a size eight. What designer in their right mind would make a cardigan this short?
“Kitsuwaka is a trendy new designer,” Edith said through the crack. “He likes short clothes and minus size models.”
“Ah. Yes. Thank you, Edith.”
Annie zipped through all the clothes. Tried on a festive colored blouse. Hmm. Pretty.
“Wrong color,” Edith said. “Makes your complexion look sallow. Like a heroin addict. You’re not a heroin addict, are you?”
“No.” Annie frowned and tossed that blouse aside. She tried on a fitted skirt that was too fitted.
“Are you pregnant, dear?” Edith asked.
“No!”
“Let’s exchange these clothes for the next batch.”
They swapped out the ten bad clothes for ten new items. The paisley pants fit around Annie’s behind but gapped in the waist. The cotton designer pants fit perfectly around her waist but not her behind. The only thing that worked was a thin boat neck style cotton XXL T-shirt in a light pink. Cute.
“You’re already wearing something exactly like that,” Edith said.
Annie sighed. Edith was right. There was one item left - the darling sundress she lusted after. This was her final hope. This had to fit. It was impossibly adorable. She pictured wearing the sundress while frolicking on the beach. She envisioned wearing the dress to go out for drinks with her hot new love interest, hunky L.A. Police Detective Rafe Campillio, at sunset, on a deck overlooking the Pacific Ocean.
Later, back at her apartment Rafe would gaze at her, his chocolate eyes consumed with lust as he dragged the sundress’s spaghetti straps off her shoulders with his teeth.
She crossed her fingers, pulled the sundress on, on zipped it up, turned and looked at the mirror.
“I was hoping that dress would be the one for you,” Edith said.
Annie spotted a glimpse of Edith’s eyeglasses in the mirror. “Me too,” Annie said.
“It makes your arms look like something I saw on a TV ad recently.”
“Something good?”
“Something from Wisconsin,” Edith said. “Hmm, what was it?”
“I love Wisconsin! I’m from Oconomowoc - ”
“Sausages,” Edith said. “Wisconsin sausages.” She walked away.
“Hey, just because Wisconsin has the best sausages in the world doesn’t mean my arms…” Annie suddenly felt nauseous. This was wrong. It was all wrong. The sales clothes were heaped in a pile on the bench. She rang the little bell, pulled her slightly worn clothes back on and put the cute but disastrous items back on their hangers.
“Do you want to try on some more?” Edith asked.
“No!” Annie opened the door, gathered all her courage and faced Edith. “I know Snotsky’s is having a great sale and all but I think I’m done for the day.” She handed Edith the clothes. “Thanks for your help.”
She stormed toward the escalator. She would stop by The Cocktail Getaway Bar and tell Grady and Julia she was going home to her little haunted apartment to shop online. She’d give her cat Theodore a squeeze, dive into the cheesy fish crackers for sustenance and pop open a Corona.
And then she remembered, turned and walked back. “Edith?” Annie rummaged in her purse, pulled out her wallet, looked at the happy toe card and snagged her parking stub.
“What, dear?” Edith was zipping and clipping the clothes back onto their hangers, so they were perfect and ready to depress their next fashion victim.
“Could I get my parking ticket validated?” Annie held the stub out to Edith. “Please?”
“Of course.” Edith’s thin fingers with her short-filed non-polished fingernails snagged the parking stub. “You are a Platinum member of Snotsky’s, correct?”
“Platinum?” Annie asked.
“Oh, dear. Tell me you’re not simply a Silver Snotsky’s member.” Edith frowned and recounted the clothes.
“Member? I have to be a member?”
“The parking validation offer’s only valid for non-members at Snotsky’s of Pasadena. You’re at Snotsky’s of Santa Monica.”
“Oh,” Annie said. “Not every Snotsky’s offers free parking validation during their sales event?”
“Every Snotsky’s offers free parking validation during sales events to Platinum card members.”
“I haven’t found a thing here, except for clothes that would fit incredibly thin teenage dwarves, and let me make this clear - I have nothing against dwarves, my second cousin Ronald who lives in Waukesha is a little person,” Annie said. “But I still have to pay like two bucks every half hour for the privilege of parking in Snotsky’s underground garage that smells like the men’s bathroom at Dodger Stadium?”
“What were you doing in the men’s bathroom at Dodger Stadium?”
“Have you seen the lines at the women’s bathrooms?”
“Three dollars every half hour, dear,” Edith said.
“Thank you for your help, but I’m out of here.” Annie harrumphed, and turned to leave.
“Not so quick, missy.” Edith clasped her cold bony hand onto Annie’s arm.
Oh good God, what now? Annie turned and stared at her. “What? Have the stripes reversed? Do designers actually care about real women? Are there trendy well-made T-shirts that thirty-eight year old women are allowed to wear?” Annie spotted a woman in a cheap blue security guard uniform jogging up to them.
The female security guard paused to catch her breath and fanned herself. “I’m sorry to tell you this, miss,” she said, “But you must accompany me to Snotsky’s security office. Unless you don’t mind being patted down here.”
“Patted down?” Annie asked. “Patted down? I have no new clothes, the clock is ticking on the garage meter, the ticket is not going to be validated, and why in the hell would you want to pat me down?”
“Because I’ve checked your items multiple times,” Edith said. “You entered the dressing room with ten items. You exited with nine.”
“You think I’m a shoplifter?” Annie asked. “What am I going to shoplift? The pants that make me look like a chubby leprechaun? The blouse that makes me look like a heroin addict? You’ve got to be kidding me?”
“Just come with me, miss,” the female security guard tugged Annie’s sleeve. “We’ll walk nice and quiet to the security section and do a little search and discovery.”
Shocked, Annie walked off with the guard. While she was totally used to being felt up in high school, she anticipated this feel up was not going to be the least bit fun.
“Have a nice day, dear,” Edith Flowers said.
Annie turned and eyeballed Edith who wav
ed at her, cheery. “Eat it, Flowers!” she yelled. And then realized that probably wouldn’t make her look more innocent. Whatever.
The female security guard giggled.
“What?” Annie asked.
“‘Eat it, Flowers’?” she said. “That was the funniest thing I’ve heard since I’ve been employed at Snotsky’s for nine months. Hah! Call me Mary.”
“Thanks, Mary. Be a pal and get the cavity search over with quickly.”
Four
Her Golden Years
Edith Flowers washed her hands and positioned them in an environmentally correct hand air drier on the wall. After her hands were completely dried, she checked her reflection in the huge mirrors lining the crisp clean counters in the newly renovated Snotsky’s Uni-Sex employee locker room and bathroom.
She smoothed errant wisps of her silver hair back into her perfect chignon, patted the lapels of her vintage Snotsky’s Dior rip-off suit and slipped a tiny gold colored pillbox out of her pocket. She flicked it open with her thumb, looked around, pulled out a pill, discretely popped it and reminded herself to stay calm. Because after being employed for thirty-five years at Snotsky’s this was officially Edith’s last day.
Snotsky’s used to have two Employee Lounges. One for women and one for men. But the new Snotsky’s young brash corporate management team was changing everything. Not only had they merged the lounges, but also they changed the store’s look, the employees, and the ratio of young and trendy clothes to the classics’ designers. And now The Getaway Cocktail Bar. What next – rent a room by the hour?
The newly hired trendy too young employees rushed past Edith, several even bumping into her. They didn’t know or care who she was. They were loud, gossiped, changed clothes, got naked, swore, and talked trash.
It had been a very tough decision, but Edith knew it was time for her to go. She smoothed the tiny bags under her eyes with hemorrhoid crème. That would vanquish them for a few hours. After her nine-hour shift today, she was done.
Her luggage was packed, her mail forwarded. She’d relinquished her rent-controlled one-bedroom apartment on 16th Street in Santa Monica and with all the money she’d saved, purchased a modest one-bedroom condo five blocks from the beautiful Gulf beach in St. Augustine, Florida. It was time for Edith to leave behind her life in California and move on to her golden years in the much more affordable and gorgeous Sunshine State.
It pained her to leave. Edith knew her last day on the job at Snotsky’s was going to be extremely difficult. So after thirty-five years of holding her temper and being Miss Polite, she decided to allow herself to have some fun on her last day at Snotsky’s. Go a little crazy. Be a little snobby. She felt a twinge of regret for being rude to the cute girl in the disheveled yoga clothes.
But when it appeared that Annie was possibly a thief, Edith felt better. She’d brought a pinch of well-deserved justice and maybe pride back to Snotsky’s. Then Edith found the missing clothing item and reported the information to security. But someday when Snotsky’s inventories were off, their new sales clerks arrived late, left early and quit as soon as they got their first acting gig, Snotsky’s management would realize what a treasure Edith was. They would miss her when she was gone.
The unisex lounge grew quiet and Edith knew the shifts had changed. She was a few minutes late for her last few hours on the job. She heard the creak of a door and glanced over at the changing stalls. She pinched her wrist. What was she nervous about? She’d never been late one day, not even one shift in her entire career at Snotsky’s. She’d already signed the termination agreement. What would they do? Dock her a half-hour of pay?
She held her head high, smoothed her Hermes’ scarf around her neck, pulled back her shoulders and walked towards the exit. When the door to a changing stall flew open and pinged her on her shoulder, she flinched. Then she became angry. “Excuse me,” Edith said. “I suggest you apologize for your rudeness.” Yes, this was the new Edith. The Edith who wasn’t going to take everyone’s bad behavior anymore.
That same person grabbed Edith’s scarf from behind and twisted it tight around her neck. “Or don’t apologize,” Edith gasped as her legs gave out underneath her. “Can I help youuuuuuu….” The rude person twisted her scarf twisted tighter and tighter around Edith’s very thin neck. She never got her answer, collapsed and everything faded to black.
Five
Game Changers
Annie stomped towards the entrance to The Getaway Cocktail Bar. While Mary the security guard couldn’t have been nicer, Annie was still interrogated, poked, prodded, and searched.
Snotsky’s investigation ended when someone found the missing tenth clothing item and phoned security HQ. She was released from custody knowing that Mary the security guard would always have her back, in a literal as well as figurative sense, and now they were probably eligible for ‘Overly Close Friends Status’ on Facebook.
Annie pushed her way through the throng of trendy polished people who didn’t wear hoodies into the The Getaway and immediately spotted Julia and Grady at the bar. Half empty enormous martini glasses rested in front of them while they flirted with the impossibly cute bartenders.
“Heeeeey,” Julia said. “How’s the shopping coming along? I don’t see any Snotsky’s bags. Score some new clothes?”
Annie sighed and clutched her head. “Just a major headache.”
“Come here, honey,” Julia beckoned. “Let’s get you a yummy cocktail, I’ll rub your neck and we’ll make it all better. Oh, Liam!” Julia pulled Annie towards her, clamped onto her neck and massaged it.
A sizzle went through Annie’s – No, no! No empathic hits from Julia or she’d wind up as a character in some scorching erotica novel. “Back off, Julia,” Annie hissed and pulled away. “I know exactly what you want to score tonight, and it’s not a size eight with flouncy sleeves.”
“I am totally fine with flouncing,” Julia whispered.
A hot, twenty-something, built red-haired bartender turned and smiled at Annie from behind the well stocked bar.
“Your friends told me all about your mission. You’re getting out there. Changing your game. My name’s Liam.” He spoke with an impossibly cute Irish brogue. “Let me make you a cocktail on the house. What’s your pleasure?”
“You’re a nice guy, Liam. Thanks but I’m going home,” Annie said.
“Stay!” Julia and Grady yelled in unison.
“Meh,” Annie said.
Outside the lounge the piano player launched into a familiar song.
“Hey, it’s a movie song,” Julia said. “It’s also a sign.” She snapped her fingers at Grady. “Call it, dude. Are you going to let all those screenwriting and film courses go to waste?”
“I Will Always Love You, sung by Whitney Houston in The Bodyguard 1992 co-starring Kevin Costner,” Grady said. “Kind of cheesy but did well and that means…”
“We will always love you, Annie,” Julia drawled as she suddenly remembered her sexy southern accent that had disappeared decades ago. “Especially when you buy some new clothes. Flouncy clothes. Don’t you agree, Liam?” Julia leaned over the bar and smiled at him.
Liam poured Annie a shot and placed it on the bar with a clank. “Just one shot.”
Grady lifted his glass. “You can’t leave Snotsky’s, Annie ’till you purchase one new clothing sales item.”
“I agree.” Julia raised her glass to Annie.
Liam nodded to Annie and winked. “Here’s to game changers!”
Annie sighed. “Thank you, Liam. To game changers.” She slammed back the shot and put the glass on the bar.
“To game changers!” Julia and Grady echoed her and guzzled their own drinks as Annie walked out the door.
* * *
Annie rode the scary escalator from the second to the first floor while she fished in her wallet for her parking stub. But no matter how hard she looked, she couldn’t find it. No parking stub meant a $40 dollar parking fee. No way she’d be shelling out forty bucks
for no clothes, one shot and being felt up by someone who was nice but not her type. Where was the flippin’ stub? The last time she saw it was in the dressing room when she handed it to Edith Flowers, the world’s most obnoxious department store clerk.
Annie sighed. Her headache throbbed in her temples. She exited the down escalator, made a u-turn and stepped onto the up escalator. Because she knew her parking stub was still with Edith Flowers on Snotsky’s third floor. By God, she would find that nasty woman and retrieve her parking stub if she had to wrestle it out of her cold thin manicured hand.
Annie passed the grand piano on the second floor on her way to the escalator that would take her to the third floor. The piano player was a slightly younger Tony Bennet look-alike. Yes his talents were a little schmaltzy, but Annie had been to enough budget wedding receptions, bar mitzvahs and engagement parties, (her own included,) to realize that not every pianist could be Elton John.
* * *
Annie stepped off the escalator onto the third floor and walked toward the Women’s Department. She spritzed her mouth with breath spray so she didn’t smell like booze. (She’d only had one, but Edith would probably call security and claim she was intoxicated.) She approached the dressing rooms. But there was a sign that proclaimed it closed and a pretty cabernet-colored silken sash cordoned the rooms off from the public.
She walked to the sales counter. No Edith. She hiked several departments over to Ladies Lingerie and spotted a pretty, middle-aged Latina clerk behind the sales counter. “Lorinda Martinez” was etched into her name badge that was pinned onto her ample chest that jutted out, no doubt from the perfect bra. Maybe Edith had a valid point after all.
“Excuse me,” Annie said. “I’m looking for Edith Flowers?”
Lorinda regarded Annie. “Edith might still be in the Employee’s Lounge. It’s a couple aisles over, next to the Customer Restrooms. You like cake?”
Pamela DuMond - Annie Graceland 02 - Cupcakes, Sales, and Cocktails Page 2