That's another thing we have down to a science: first we decide upon a retail establishment - either the neighborhood's upscale mall or sometimes the outlets a bit more further out - we plot the fastest route, synchronize watches immediately upon arrival thereat, agree on a meeting time and place and then without wasting another second, part ways as we make a beeline to our store of choice. Sometimes without even knowing it we'd have had the same idea and end up at the same boutique, (we kind of gravitate towards the sales section). We seem to have this mutual tacit understanding and not too many words are exchanged, maybe a simple nod to acknowledge the other's presence or to approve a piece of merchandise and then it's carrying on shopping because time is of the essence. Yes, while the directors have business lunches during which they sign contracts and close million dollar deals, we girls have "shopping lunches" where we scour through boutiques for rare finds and "steals" and empty our pocketbooks.
It was during one of these whirlwind noontime escapades that we found ourselves at an intersection with a semi-trailer truck charging right at us. We should've taken it as a sign that it wasn't meant to be, like some ominous writing on the wall, when en route to Marche Centrale, the highway exit turned out to be closed off due to construction & should have just turned around and headed back to the office, but you know, when there's a will, there's a way and no roadblock was so insurmountable as to keep us from making it to our destination. So as usual, when we got there, we parted at Old Navy, checked out Jacob, reconvened at Guess and finally assembled together in front of the car with our crinkly, rustling-tissue-lined paper bags and hopped in. And that's when we came face-to-face with the truck. My little compact sedan was actually encroaching on it's way. You know how some of those trucks have warnings on their rears that they make "wide right-turns" ? Well, we were in it's way as it was making one of those clumsy turns, and I didn't even hear the driver blasting his foghorn of a horn above my screaming so loudly like an idiot. All I could see was the word MACK set against the shiny radiator grill coming right at us. Sheryl just short of slapped me silly upside my head for me to get a grip of myself, and calmly verbally instructed me to just back up. So I did, and the truck, of course, neatly made it's way to it's side of the road. I later learned that for a fleeting milli-second Sema considered jumping car and ditching us, taking our purchases with her!
I'm not sure anymore whether we are the best threesome to be working together because instead of helping one another exercise self-restraint and will-power, we condone each other's actions and encourage, justify and egg on our compulsive shopping habit (same goes for the that-time-of-the-month chocolate, and McNuggets cravings!!!) Sometimes, we reason that in a way we are actually kissing the hand that feeds us, after all, we are in the retail construction business! That day we narrowly escaped certain death by human roadkill and indirectly, by shopping, well, maybe I'm exaggerating a bit, but really, it must've been some kind of divine retribution for too much self-indulgence....
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