“Doc! Where the hell did you get that skirt?!?!!! That is THE cutest denim skirt I have ever seen.” She held out her bruised and swollen ankle for me to examine.
I told her where the skirt had come from. She winced as I poked and prodded and tested range of motion.
“What’s that? I’ve never heard of this place before. Is it expensive? Remember I can’t afford the expensive stuff you buy. I’m not rich like you doctors….”
“Actually, I am tightwad, cheapskate penny pincher. I bought it on clearance.”
In the time it took me to tell her the leg was not broken, she had pulled up the clothing website on her smart phone.
“What size do you wear?”
“I ordered a 12. It’s a bit large so it would sit low on my hips…”
I lied. That really is my real skirt size and the waistband was not sitting low on my hips. But she didn’t really need to know that, did she?
As I handed her the checkout paperwork, she pressed the “Place Order” button and had an identical skirt on its way to her mailbox via priority 2-3 day shipping.
She really wanted that skirt. I never pay for priority shipping if I can help it!
In fact, the only things I really splurge on are fancy underwear and rarer than I would like trips to Europe. I don’t know if the nice undies make a difference to those people on the other side of the airport scanners but it sure makes me laugh.
The Pope would blush if he knew what I had worn to the Vatican…