The downtown Pittsburgh Macy’s is closing and there has been a real bonanza of liquidation sales going on. People at work have been all excited about it, telling me about how you can get linens and other house-y things for next to nothing, and then laughing at themselves when they remember that I’m not the household member responsible for purchasing such things.
However, it occurred to me last weekend that there are a ton of mannequins there, and what will become of them? So I set a reminder on my phone to ask Glenn first thing Monday morning, because Glenn used to work at Macy’s (WITH TERRY!).
This is how it went:
Me: Glenn, how was your vacation ok but seriously, do you still have connections at Macy’s?
Me: Because I need to know if there are mannequins and if so, can I have one.
Glenn: Why don’t you just ask Terry?
Because Terry still works there sometimes! Great idea!
So that went like this:
Me, popping up in Terry’s office doorway: Terry, serious non-work-related question!
Terry, not looking up from his computer: What’s up, Erin?
Me: IS MACY’S SELLING THEIR MANNEQUINS?
Terry: Yeah, everything is for sale.
Me: HOW MUCH ARE THEY?
Terry: I don’t know. There are all kinds, old, new, you’d have to go look. They’re all on the third floor.
So then this is how my conversation with Henry went:
Me: WE HAVE TO GO TO MACY’S THIS WEEKEND.
Me: MANNEQUINS. TERRY SAID!
Henry: Oh for fuck’s sake.
And then after finally getting Henry to dejectedly agree to Mission: Mannequin, I had this conversation with Chooch.
Me: WAKE UP WE HAVE TO GO DOWNTOWN.
Chooch, murmuring: For what?
Me: A mannequin.
Chooch: OH COME ON!!!
And this is how I ended up on the third floor of Macy’s, stepping over a jumble of enough Art Deco furniture and framed stock pictures to decorate a 1980s porno set, ready to elbow some douchebag in the ribs when he held his gaze just a tad too long on the mannequin that I had already claimed but was waiting for Henry to come back with some Macy’s broad who had no shits left to give about answering mannequin questions.
But I got my fucking mannequin! Henry lugged it over to the service desk and paid for it with much unhappiness.
“Do you want a cart for that?” a nice man asked as we began our journey out of Macy’s and back to the car as a four-piece family.
“No I’m good,” Henry sighed with his penis between his legs, and then, this is my favorite part, nearly whacked the man in the face with Mannequin’s sassily extended arm.
Luckily for Henry’s modesty, we parked in a garage that is very close to Macy’s, so there wasn’t much public ground to cover while transporting the mannequin back to the car. Not that anyone would have given us a second glance—it’s downtown Pittsburgh. People lug around all kinds of weird shit down there.
There were two old women waiting in the parking garage as the elevator door opened to spill us out on the second level.
“Oh my!” one of them laughed. “All I saw was that hand first!” as Henry stepped out behind the mannequin. We all had a good laugh, and Chooch was all, “what happened? What did she say?!” Because God forbid he’s not included in something.
When we came home, Hot Naybor Chris was in the driveway. He asked us what we were up to. Henry said, “Not much” and I cried, “We went to Macy’s and bought a mannequin!”
HNC thought about this for a moment. “OK. Cool!” he responded, determining that this wasn’t the weirdest thing he’s seen us bring into our house over the last 10 years.
Anyway, I’m just so excited to finally be able to have the Christmas tree I’ve been dreaming about since I was a teenager! I feel like I chose the right one. Something about her really speaks to me and I just can’t wait to paint her all glittery and then strangle her with garland.