**Warning – this is probably going to bore the hell out of readers of the male variety – maybe even the female variety**

No. I wasn’t sad – wasn’t laughing ’til I cried (until after it happened).  Here’s what happened.

Nic was invited to the Sadie Hawkins dance.  I was feeling restless this morning (after waking up at 6:05 am for crying out loud).  I watched some DVR’d shows (the Glee episode being one of them, about Sadie Hawkins by coincidence) – did some dishes – showered, dressed and woke Nic up with ‘Wanna go to the mall?’

Yes. Yes he did want that.

We left the house. 

I knew I wanted to get him a shirt for the dance.  Was interested at looking for a painting for the living room –  And since just after Christmas, after sniffing it at a Kohls, and falling in love with it, I had decided to finally treat myself to DKNY’s Red Delicious perfume. 

We’re just across the river from an outlet mall – there’s a perfume shop that sells, get this, PERFUME of all things – at discounted prices.

Off we go.

Fun ensued at the mall – fun always ensues when Nic and I are out and about.  I love that about us.

We finally make it to the perfume shop.

No – they don’t have it.  Ug.  (Kohls hadn’t had it either – and wouldn’t sell me the sample.  I also couldn’t find it anywhere else in town). 

Ah Red Delicious – you elusive bitch.  I’ll share with you the notes:

Champagne, lychee, raspberry, apple, rose, amber, musk and vanilla.  (Hungry yet?)

If you’re anything like me – once you’ve set your mind on getting something, you’re not leaving until you get something.  And it’s okay if that something isn’t exactly the ‘thing’ you originally intended to get. 

So now I’m being catered to by a sales girl with whiffs of this and that on those little rectangles of paper.

I mean, I’m all over the place – “Um, what about that one?  Yeah, the original Michael Korrs, NOT the Hollywood one”  – “Wow, that’s expensive, never mind – what about the Ysatis?” 

Point, Spritz, sniff – nope.  Point, Spritz, sniff, nope. 

I’m not loyal to one perfume  – I love diversity.  I don’t have a signature scent per se, but have a few favorites.  LOVE Design by Paul Mitchell and Vanderbilt by Gloria Vanderbilt reminds me of one of my favorite scents – violet.  (Funny, it doesn’t have any violet in it.  But, if you have L’Oreal lipstick at home, sniff that – that’s what Vanderbilt smells like.  LOVE it.)

Both are perfumes that when I scoop up an article of clothing that I wore and the smell is still lingering on it – makes me do that closed eyed ‘mmmm’ thing.

ANYWAY.

Nic is now over at the mens counter purchasing his first bottle of ‘real’ cologne and comes over to advise me that if we spend X amount of dollars together, we qualify for a ‘managers special’.  Whatever the heck that is – but if something comes with a deal or a free bonus gift – I’m in.

The crying part:

I’m unattended now.  Spritzing away.  I pick one up and promptly spray it directly into my face.  My open eyes – my nostrils, my MOUTH.  That’s the tears part.  I’m laughing – and Nic returns.  Thing is, it smelled pretty good.  Didn’t taste good – and sure as hell felt like mace in my eyeballs, but I’ve decided I’m liking Tommy Bahama St. Barts.

Notes: Tequila, Lime, floral notes, sand, guaiac wood and musk.  My take on it?  Smelled like jelly beans. LOL!

NOW apparently, I have to spend X amount more … I go to a friend from the early 90’s on the discount table.  Escape by Calvin Klein

Notes: Camomile, apple, lychee, rose, plum, peach, coriander, mandarin and sandalwood.

Another one on the discount table is (blush) Britney Spears Circus Fantasy.

Notes: Raspberry, apricot, blue peony, lotus, orchid, vanilla, musk and … violet candy! 

Done.  The sales woman rings us up.

“You know, if you spend $7 more … you can get one of those bags?” 

Nic says “You should get that Jelly Bean one!”  I’m thinking – I really want that bag. 

(For what I have no clue – I don’t GO anywhere.  It’s a doctors style medical bag – good for a weekend getaway.  I absolutely NEED it at that moment).

Okay add the St. Barts.

Left that shop smelling like a French Whore.  (Why do people say that?  I’m going to have to Google that).

Notes: Don’t go to the mall for a shirt and a piece of art and maybe a perfume and come home with 3 bottles of perfume, a medicine bag and stinging eyeballs.