In my latest incarnation at unnamed apparel company, I manage the women’s swimwear desk. I deal with big guys (Macy’s, Lord & Taylor, etc.) and little guys and a couple sales offices scattered through the country. I am a mix of sales support, customer service, and order management.

Yesterday one of my New York sales people were in town for a corporate meeting with Nordstrom. In addition to this buyers meeting she was going to be working the sales floor at Bellevue Square. She invited me to come along so I could get a better idea for swim technicalities (you’d never believe how many different types of swim bottoms there are and which body types they are good for).

 Fair enough.

So I borrow Dylan’s car and make the long, arduous trek to Bellevue Square. For those unfamiliar with this side of the universe, this is a big sprawling mall on that side of Lake Washington. You know, the Bill Gates/Microsoft/Land Rover side. So my afternoon was spent helping uppity mom’s figure out what suit would hide their midriff’s that carry the scars of baby making.

If you know me you know that I’m not good at lying and am equally as awful at small talk. It goes without saying that yesterday was about as awesome as the blisters that cover my feet. I learned quickly that there is a reason why I’m not in sales and why I prefer indirect communication. At least on the phone I can fib. And at my desk I can put my feet up. I’m so glad the retail world is in my past. I now have another reason to never wish 19 on myself ever again.