Confessions Of A Splenda Stealer

Upon getting to work today, I settled in, blotted myself with a paper towel, put my hair up and sat in silence for a few minutes to cool off and collect my thoughts. Five minutes later, I’m digging into my bag looking for spare change to buy some much needed coffee. To my chagrin, I find two quarters, and lots and lots of pennies. While there were a lot of Lincolns, I didn’t really want to either count nor hand the cashier at Cafe Metro a fistful of pennies.

It became multiple choice hour. I could a) got to the ATM and take out $$, b) suck it up until tomorrow and just overdose on coffee during FREE ICED COFFEE WEDNESDAYS at Starbucks, (I didn’t tell you?? I got another free coffee card!) or c) hmmm figure somethin’ out…

I chose b)–to stick it out until tomorrow because as soon as I get $$ in my hand, it’s gone. After just paying off two credit card bills and rent, I just didn’t feel like going to the ATM. Nope, nope. I was doing pretty well until about 2pm when I start to get a headache. DAMN YOU CAFFEINE ADDICTION!! I began to get panicky. I left my Advil in my other purse which was too big to carry in this heat, so what to do??

Trying to distract myself, I go on my favorite blog, Midtownlunch.com. La–dee–dah…Milant on 39th and 3rd serving gazpacho…chicken and BBQ postings…and then suddenly–there it was-

FREE (ICED) COFFEE ALERT: The New Joe

A new Joe the Art of Coffee was opening in the Gray Bar Passage of Grand Central–thee blocks from me. To celebrate their much awaited opening, from 4pm-6pm today was a “dress-rehearsal,” read: FREE GOODIES.

My eyes enlarge and I nod my head yes. It has been decided. The coffee gods like me apparently. I will deal with my headache until 4pm when I will skip into my elevator and ride down to coffee paradise.

My walk quickens as I get closer. I see the Graybar entrance and my heart skips. I get inside and scan for the place. About 50 feet ahead of me, a short line has formed of people pacing and hopping from one foot to the next. In my experience, this is such the site of a free food line. Antsy, antsy people looking around at what people in front of them are getting, trying to figure out how much free stuff they can score. I had a man behind me ask me about 50 times what we could get. Is this the line for free coffee? Is it free tea? Free chai? Free muffins? Dude, just wait and see, I told him. I was alarmingly calm while others who weren’t sure about the free deal but curious about the line kept sticking their faces against the glass to try and figure out what was going on. I do not have a good history for waiting in food lines, but my addiction was my cause.

I get up to the counter to learn that anything on the coffee menu and any snack was free. I order a LARGE iced latte and, what the hell, get a blueberry scone. I hold my scone in a folded white paper back and wait patiently for my coffee. Some guy of course grabs the first iced latte he sees and takes a gulp, but then he feels dumb when the next drink actually has his name on it and realizes he stole mine. He apologizes and then smiles; I let it go because he was sort of eye-candy. Giggle.

Within ten minutes, I go from bitter and achey to happy with a buzz from caffeine and free food goodness. I get back to my desk and chow down. The iced latte was amazing–really really good. The scone was disappointingly dense and lacked much flavor, so I picked the blueberries out of it. Someone needs to rehearse a bit more on the scones. Here’s me a little too excited:

All in all, it was a good day. I said it once and I’ll say it again, but thank you Midtownlunch.com!!!

PS: I also scored lots of Splenda!!!

Yesterday was the first day that I ever bought tomatoes. Ever. Feeling good at the fact that I walked all the way to the A&P in 95 degree weather, with a market tote so I wouldn’t need to waste a plastic bag, I hit the produce section and see a bunch of basil. Hmm….yummm…I get the craving for basil, mozzarella, and of course tomato. I was actually excited because I already had the olive oil and balsamic vinaigrette for a delicious, gourmet snack that I could treat myself too after peeling off my sundress.

I get home, unpack my groceries, and check my email and a few sites before I head back to the kitchen. Then, I see this: Tomatoes Tainted With Salmonella.

I don’t know whether to be pissed that I have to throw out the tomatoes I just bought, thankful to God that I read this right before consuming such tainted produce, or dumbfounded that the only time I have ever bought tomatoes, something like this happens.

Sometimes I think we should all wear hard hats when we walk outside.

As a Splenda Stealer, designer labels are just not in the budget. If I’m wearing something with an H, LV, CC, Tiffany or David Yurman jewelery, etc., it’s was probably a present from someone. Not probably, it was. (I don’t currently have anything with CCs but if you are reading this please feel free to donate to the “Confessions Of A Splenda Stealer Fund.”

Call me silly, but before I worked in NYC I knew nothing about the sample sale. The only “super designer discount” event I ever want to was this weird warehouse of Saks Fifth Avenue down in Maryland during my senior year in college. After that experience, I sort of swore those sales off. In short, it was terrifying. Waiting on a line of antsy women who then literally sprint into the stale sales room with water-stained carpeting to snatch up as many deals as possible is not my idea of fun. Call me crazy, but part of the reason I like to shop is the experience, especially when buying luxury items. I would much rather sip my coffee and slowly peruse the racks or window displays than fight over a Longchamp bag with some overly tan woman in a Juicy velour sweatsuit who reeks of cigarettes.

But during my first few weeks working in Midtown and reading NYC blogs and such, I stumbled upon sites like TopButton.com that were all gung-ho about the sample sale. I was curious to see how these sales may be different from my traumatizing experience. The first one I went to was a Diane Von Furstenberg sale with my friend Nikki–and it was a eye-opening experience. Cramped quarters, racks of clothing with tiny aisles so that you have to become-one-with the clothes for people to pass you, a “dressing room” which was just a big room with mirrors and a guy counting down the 90 seconds you had to try on the 30 articles of clothing that you dragged in there. Sheer craziniess. I never saw so many strangers in their thongs, which brings me to sample sale rule #1: prepare to take your clothes off in front of strangers. Unless you are an exhibitionist, do not wear your super lacy or really old unmentionables to a sample sale because chances are, you will not be trying on clothes in a regular dressing room. Super time saver–wear thin layers that you can throw dresses or tops over and avoid the try-on line completely.

#2) It pays to be, how should we say, “un-petite.” I am a slender person, but I am not a size 2 which works incredibly to my advantage because when I got to this year’s Diane von Furstenberg sample sale, most of the women who were on the line (that literally stretched around the block) were all teeny, tiny Asian women. As annoying as the line was, and as hysterical as the inside of the sample space was, not only were all these women fighting over the Thumbelina sizes, but if I had to, I could just stampede over them to my part of the rack.

#3) Do your research. I already knew my size in DVF before I went, and I stuck to the styles of clothing, like the wrap dresses, that I know fit me really well. I actually did go out on a limb and bought two styles that I never tried on before, but luckily, they fit amazingly! No try on line=me flying over to the check-out line to buy five dresses that normally would have cost around $1,500 to $2,000 for only $825. I still had to fight back a seizure when I handed over my credit card, but two of the dresses were for my mom, which brings up rule #4: while it can be fun and exhilarating to share the sample sale experience, if you offer to shop for anyone, make sure they are the same size as you. Grab whatever you like, and then the two of you can decide who fits what best.

Without the time I waited on the line to get in, which was only about 15 min, I was in and out of the sample sale in half an hour, tops. I spent the next 20 minutes leisurely walking to work, swinging my bag of DVF dresses in a no-frills white shopping bag. I was distracted for the rest of the day.

One of the wrap dresses! How cute!! It has pirates on it.

There are many times in life when it pays to be a girl. Not that I condone such behavior, but sometimes playing the “damsel in distress” or “dumb blonde” works to our benefit, whether I like it or not. I’ve never been pulled over by a cop, and now that I don’t have a car the only ticket I could ever get would be open container or something ridiculous like that, but acting all weepy or flirty or dumb sometimes gets you out of sticky situations. I never really put on this act, but for many girls, it works.

There are a few other places where it may work as well:

–the Verizon or other cell phone center

–the place where you go for computer repairs

–probably others but I haven’t exactly mastered this skill, which is why I have no idea why I tried when I brought in my little baby nano to the Genius Bar in an Apple Store.

I was home for the weekend–MEMORIAL DAY!!–and my Dad felt bad for me because he and I relate to how much we love our iPods and understood that I would probably go nuts if I didn’t have one. I made an appointment, and away we went to Freehold Raceway Mall. I figured that since my iPod didn’t have any visible signs of water damage, or that I even dropped it, I thought maybe this was my time to shine. Maybe, I could finally master that “Oooh…it’s not working…what should I do?” and pull one over on the Genius Bar Man. I sort of hate myself a little for admitting that, but when it comes to saving my Nano baby, I would pull out all the stops.

Yeah, um, no. The guy was so not having it. He takes one prod at my Nano and looks at my blankly, “There is water damage. It will die.”

I can’t believe that I actually acted surprised and said, “Oh, yeah that makes sense. Some water got in my bag and I wasn’t sure if it reached my Nano.”

Why did I even bother to say that lie? Why did I feel obligated to play a game with Genius Bar man? Why didn’t I just say, “Yeah, so I dropped this in a puddle on 8th Ave. Is there any silver lining here?” Why play these games? Who knows.

It has now been two weeks…and it’s still alive and kicking. I am taking very good care of it, yet I don’t allow it in my bed anymore because I will never be able to shake that memory of the puddle.