Monday, October 27, 2008

As Twisted as The Pretzel over Which I Salivate

I’ve recently become obsessed with the Auntie Anne’s pretzel stand in the mall near my office. Now, if the type of pretzels they offered there were the large, hard, sourdough kind, like many people I probably would have never even noticed the stand was there, but these pretzels aren’t hard or bland or even easy to ignore. They are soft and warm and coated in butter and salt. Mmmm…

You might as well just roll a softened stick of butter in salt, coat in extra lard, infuse one-million carbs, and fry.

Really, it’s all Sephora’s fault. The mall just opened a Sephora, and like any girl who hates shopping for jeans, my favorite mall hot-spots include any place with shoes, accessories, or make up, and the new Sephora fulfills the make up requirement quite nicely.

Knowing how I go apeshit over make up (because she does too), and knowing that Shephora had just opened because I couldn’t stop talking about it, my previous boss got me a gift card to Sephora for my birthday. Well, who can spend the exact amount on a gift card? I had some left over, so last Friday I decided to go back and try to again find a new perfume.

Again? Yes, again. I’m extremely picky about fragrances, especially perfumes, and this is about the eighteenth time I’ve gone out hunting for a new scent. Don’t get me wrong, I already have a scent I love, Kiehl’s Original Musk, but I’d like to have something else to mix it up a bit when I feel so inclined. I used to mix it up with an Indian Sandalwood oil, but the guy who sold me the good stuff started watering it down, and what he now sells is shit, because the scent isn’t as potent and leaves completely after only several hours. I’ve tried different vendors of Indian Sandalwood, but it’s the same story everywhere, so I’ve been on a mission to find something new.

Oh, and one more thing – I hate (HATE) manufactured chemical scents. HATE. I need something natural, something earthy, something rich and deep. Try walking into a store and telling that to the perfume saleswomen. It doesn’t fly so well, and it usually translates to “spicy baby powder cat piss worn by a whore”. Ick.

Friday came and I decided to head to Sephora on my way home from work for two items: dark gray nail polish and perfume. As I walked toward the Sephora, the smell of warm, salty, buttered pretzel wafted under my nose even though it was on the other side of the Sephora. “No,” I told myself, and I went into Sephora.

Item 1 – "metro chic" nail polish: XXX!!! (read: that horrible "No, dumbass!" buzzer from The Price is Right) Apparently that nail polish color was featured in a magazine and is sold out. Everywhere. And they aren’t going to be making any more. WTF?! Not going to be making it anymore? It just came out several months ago! Doesn’t OPI want to make money – isn’t it all about the Benjamins? Whatever. I settled for a lighter gray (and added some black to make it the color I wanted - take that, OPI!).

Item 2 – new perfume: I got some, but I didn’t like it once I got it home. I tried just about everything in the store, got confused, and bought something that was totally not me, but I didn’t know that at the time.

I left Sephora and needed to take a pain pill for my tooth, so I immediately looked around for a place to purchase a drink. The food court was a floor up, but the escalator wasn’t far away. Even closer, positioned directly in front of the escalator, Auntie Anne’s. Intending to only buy a Diet Coke, I ordered that and a pretzel when I got to the counter. Not able to wait until I got back to my car to dig in, I put my face in the pretzel holder like it was a muzzle or a feed bag, as I balanced my purse falling off my shoulder, my bag, my keys, and my gallon-size Diet Coke. Once in the car, I told myself I would ration the pretzel so that I could eat it all the way home – a 20-to-30 minute ride. More than half of it was gone before I exited the parking garage. Licking my greasy fingers less than a mile from the mall the thought actually entered my mind that I should have bought two.

I thought about that fucking pretzel all weekend long. I reminisced about those few months in college I worked at The Picture Place. There was a pretzel joint two doors down, and I probably ate two pretzels during each shift that I worked. The employees would just walk over and give them to us. Did I want a pretzel? Hell, yeah! And during that several-month stint, I was actually pretty thin (for me, anyhow). So all weekend long, I’m thinking about the pretzel and rationalizing that I can eat two a day and be fine, since I was more than fine back then, right? Wrong. And I knew it.

Today after work I go to exchange the perfume, this time walking by Auntie Anne’s on my way to Sephora, pretzels wafting in the air. THEY SMELLED SO GOOD. Too bad I can’t bottle that smell (even though they do violate my “natural” requirement – anything more processed than my hair is not natural)!

After much sniffing (and hand labeling my spray sticks like a total dork), I settled on Fresh’s Cannabis Santal. I don’t know why I didn’t think about the Fresh line of fragrances before – the whole premise behind the brand is that it’s natural, and I love wearing Lemon Fresh in the summertime (even if J says I smell like cleaning products).

As I walked out, the only thing that kept me from my precious pretzel was the thought of leftover meatloaf and limited edition Edy’s pumpkin ice cream. If the pretzel would have been sitting in the next room from me all night like I knew the ice cream would be, I would have walked past the ice cream at the mall. Luckily, I know I have very little will power, and I was able to broker the ice cream for pretzel swap with myself before I could get the pretzel and then still eat the ice cream later.

When I get done typing this, I’m going to eat the ice cream, and hopefully, because I denied the pretzel earlier today, I won’t feel as bad about the ice cream as I would had I also eaten the pretzel. That is, as long as I don’t eat five servings-worth of ice cream, like I did last night.

A girl just can’t catch a break!

3 comments:

Anonymous said...

Try them with the cream cheese dip. Seriously.

Jan said...

“Spicy baby powder cat piss worn by a whore” --the new fragrance by Britney Spears. It would make a FORTUNE.

Big In Day-town said...

I'd love to find a good sandalwood scent that doesn't leave me smelling like a big incense stick. B&BW used to make a terrific sandalwood and rose lotion which they - of course- discontinued.