Put my panties in the air and wave them like you just don't care

Yes, this post is about my unmentionalbles. You still have time to turn the car around, but after this point, you may be as scarred as I am. For you creepy people, there will be no photos that correspond with this post.

It was a day of retail therapy for me. Suz and I dropped the fellas off in a delightful cafe and took off for a few area department stores. The first store we tried had tons of stuff that was interesting to look at, but nothing to buy.

The second store was a huge score for me. I found a few great things at reasonable prices. Two of the things were Unmentionalbles (that's all the detail you get). After I thouroughly perused the store, I took my purchases to the counter to pay. This went off pretty much without a hitch for someone in a foreign country. Bag in hand, Suz and I decend three floors to the ground level to continue our retail conquest.



Just as I reach for the door handle, the store alarm starts screeching. And hustling toward me is the biggest, baldest, darkest skinned Frenchman I have ever seen. His size is intimidating. His uniform is intimidating. The fact that he and I can't understand each other is intimidating. But he was very nice.

He asked for my bag and the reciept for my purchases, which he took to a small table just inside the door but still in front of everyone exiting and entering the store. He checked the reciept and then began pulling one item at a time out of my bag and waving it in front of a security sensor. It wasn't the tights. Nor the hat. Next came an Unmentionable, which he flapped around like a flag for the Nation of Underpants. If I had known how to say, "This is the best part of your day, isn't it?" I would have. Although, I'm pretty sure my Unmentionable purchase would have probably suited someone's granny.

Alas, it was not the offending item. It turned out to be the turtleneck I bought. Thank goodness.