"Never, girls. Do you understand that? You will have to ask one of your Aunts to take you."
It seems I end up visiting Last Chance every year or so, because someone begs me to go.
I am a total beast the entire time I am there.
I leave so disappointed in humanity. The returns people make to Nordstrom are ridiculous!
You wore these shoes out and then decided to return them because WHY?
It's great that Nordstrom has such a iron clad, no-questions-asked return policy, but some people, some really low life people, really work the system and return things that they've obviously just got tired of.
Designer purses that are stained, ripped, worn out, still priced at $500.
I start to pity the person that would spend that much money just to carry a designer bag that someone already wore out. Why? Why? It torments me. Then it all just becomes too much for me and I need to leave.
Two days ago, my friend convinced me to go with her to really learn the ways of shopping Last Chance.
I fought back. No. I can't go back there.
I am a pushover friend. Look at me cross-eyed and I'll do what you say. Where is my spine? It's never there at times like these.
So I went.
We got there an hour before opening and took our place right at the gate. Luckily there were racks of sweaters to look at to pass the time. The signs said 75% off.
I found a couple of new sweaters and then it hit me: 75% off the tag? But the tag says $9.97.
A woman next to me assured me these sweaters would cost about $2.50.
I was slowly being reeled in. I found seven sweaters.
As we waited for the store to actually open, I felt the adrenaline rise. In me. I am pathetic that way.
As the clerks were making their way to their stations I felt a little dizzy.
I was ready for them to announce, "Swimmers on your blocks!"
"What's going to happen?" I felt anxious.
Then a little lady came to us from the other side of the gate and announced that we were to walk, not run. Do not push!
"What am I in for? I can't handle public situations like this. This is why I boycott Black Friday!"
The gates come up.
We stand still. The little lady hasn't told us we can cross over into the store yet. I suspect she is on some sort of power trip. She pauses...
"Welcome to Last Chance."
"Walk! Slower, Sir. Slow down, Sir!"
I am trying not to laugh at my situation. I can't believe I am actually here, walking in with all the Last Chance Enthusiasts at opening time.
I am focused on jeans. (I heard you should have a focus when you first walk in.)
SLOWLY, I ruffle through the racks and racks of jeans.
I found two pair, both totaling $25. And they weren't "Not Your Daughter's Jeans" either. They were brands I have seen sell for $150.
I thought I would slowly and calmly mozy over to the shoes.
But already-worn shoes are a total turn-off to me.
No thank you.
But low and behold, a pair of clean, nude Steve Maddens pumps in my size are right there, within my reach.
I grab them, inspect them. They look new!
They fit perfectly.
How am I having such luck here in this shopping hell hole?
I decide not to dwell on it. Let's just roll with this, Angela.
I am feeling completely satisfied and ready to stop while I am ahead. (And under $100)
But then, on my way to check out, I find THE coolest vintage, boho-looking leather shirt. Yes, the tag said 100% leather.
I tried it on and immediately meshed with the buttery soft, stretchy goodness only leather gives. $10!
My total was $90. I tried so hard not to act giddy to the clerk.
"Does she SEE what I am getting here? She must feel a little elation for me. She must."
Bonus, I pay with my Nordstrom card and receive "points" too!
Let's get the H out of here and call it a day. I am on a high and I don't want anyone or anything to ruin it!
I MAY just go back.