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Divine Intervention of the Retail Kind

I know I’ve been MIA lately… and it’s not that I haven’t been thinking of blogging.  It’s just that December kind of got away from me.  Between all the Christmas hoopla and the snow, and a lot of grad school homework, I’ve been swamped.  I haven’t even been getting to my Zumba class all that often- now you know I’m serious when I say I'm busy.  Missing Zumba is a major infraction in the Erica “Rules of Happiness” handbook.

 

However, January is about new beginnings, and while I won’t say that I made a New Year’s resolution to blog more, I am trying to take a little more time for myself, and do things that I enjoy (blogging included.)  So hopefully, if all goes well, I’ll be posting here a bit more often.

 

This leads me to my latest story to share.  The other week I was at the gym, held captive on an elliptical for a 30 minute interval program.  This is not my favorite gym activity, but I was stuck time-wise without a class to attend, and I had calories to burn.  As I started on the elliptical, I noticed that there was an infomercial starting for a skin care line being touted by Cindy Crawford.  Not one to be easily swayed, I somewhat kept an eye on the closed captioning for the infomercial while I jammed away to Zumba music in my ear buds.  

 

About 15 minutes later (halfway through the infomercial, ) I realized that I was totally drawn in my Cindy’s claims of younger, smoother, glowing skin.  I was hanging on every misspelled, closed-captioned word!  Who doesn’t want firmer, wrinkle-free, glowing skin, after all?  All the women on the show sure looked great (never mind the soft lighting and fuzzy camera lens.)  Somehow she had caught me, hook, line and sucker, I mean, sinker.  I needed those products, right away!!

 

So as the infomercial and my elliptical session drew to a close, I started having a mental conversation with myself about how I was going to purchase the skincare line.  Once they revealed the low, low price, did I have time to memorize the phone number, get off the elliptical, get my phone and credit card out of my locker, get to the first floor where I would get a cell signal, and complete my transaction?   I held my breath as I waited for the final detail of the informercial to be announced- the one time only, buy in the next five minutes, deal.  And there it was- the cleanser, toner, glowing serum, eye cream, night cream, all for the low price of…

 

********************This is a child abduction Amber alert**********************

********************This is a child abduction Amber alert**********************

 

The timing couldn’t have been more comical if I had tried.  The look on my face surely said it all- I might have even swore aloud, but I’m not sure because I still had my ear buds in.  Now, not only was I faced with the ethical dilemma of doing my civic duty and listening to the Amber alert, but I still wanted to buy the wrinkle cream!!  I swear that was the longest Amber alert of my life, and as it ended and flashed back to regular programming, Cindy Crawford’s smiling, young, glowing face faded from the screen.  The infomercial was over- I had missed it.

 

Divine intervention by the retail gods?  Simply bad timing?  Karma?  Was I doomed to a life of wrinkled, dull, dry skin?  No, as luck would have it, I was able to find the products on-line, but somehow they didn't look as appealing without the bells and whistles of the infomercial.  I no longer had to have them.  And I guess in the end not only did the Amber alert save a child, but it saved my pocketbook as well.  Who knew an Amber alert was so multifunctional?

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