We get a lot more men in the shop this time of year than we do any other season. About the only thing these male holiday season customers might have in common is that they are trying to get you – their women – something that you will like. Some of them walk in and proclaim an idea they are so proud they came up with like “nightgown,” “warm fuzzy robe,” gift certificate;” others look to us for guidance and we get a chance to do our very best Vanna White; and still others say something to the tune of, “No thanks, I’m just going to look around on my own.” Such was the guy who came in the other day who searched in just about every nook and cranny of this store until he found just the right thing.
His last corner of the shop search was where the colorful pretty lacy bralettes are. He picked one up off the wall so gingerly – like it was precious – and turned to ask me if there was anything to match. I told him there was a matching thong, but he said that you didn’t like thongs. “Bikini?” I suggested. He nodded and added, “Not black. She has enough black.” The bra had some beautiful purple and pink in it so I gathered a couple of things in those colors and then he did a dead stop at the hosiery table and said, “You know what? I’m ok without the bottoms.” I found this a little weird because he had just asked me for something to match, but he seemed to be a pretty good shopper so I headed over to the gift wrap table with the lonesome bra.
I took my time gift wrapping partially because the best size box we had wasn’t quite right for one little lacy bra. The box just seemed a little empty so I fluffed up the tissue paper and added another piece or two. He was still at the hosiery table and now was looking intently at the packaging – checking out individual styles and size charts.
Finally he glanced over to me and asked “Do you have any of these that don’t go to the top?” I translated this to mean thigh highs.
“Yes, we do.”
“Can I see those?”
I showed him the “hose that don’t go to the top” options. He narrowed it down to two styles and checked out their size charts and made his decision. Of course, it was the only size we had sold out of. My heart sank and I asked him if he wanted to leave his number and I would call him if we got them back in by Christmas. “No thanks,” he said, “there’s always another occasion to come in here.”
I made a pledge to him and Julie (who was on the phone with another Christmas story I’ll tell you about) to try always have that thigh high in that size in stock. We all laughed. He left happy with that lonesome bra, chosen with love and packaged with care. Whoever you are, I just thought you should know this story because the lonesome bra in that box doesn’t tell it all.
I love Christmas stories. There’s always so much more to the present.
Much love,
Joy
