At Macy’s Downtown Crossing, I hear a very loud voice. Thick eastern European accent with undertones of advanced age, a pack-a-day, and unstoppable enthusiasm. I pick out a heavy black wool coat and bring it up to The Voice who is manning the register.
“Excuse me, ma’am, is this coat on sale?”
The Voice reaches down under the scoop neck of her shirt and sticks her hand into her bra. 40F, if I had to guess. Pulls out a crinkly laminated piece of paper, scans it. $63.24 comes off the sticker price.
“IT IS NOW!” she yells, stuffing the coupon back where it came from and reaching out for a double high-five. I high-ten her back and reach for my wallet. She runs my credit card, smiling to herself. She pauses for a beat, looks around the store.
She does a little shoulder shimmy and yells: “I HAVE MAGIC BOOBAGE!!!!”
BLUEBERRY DYNASTY 