We next stop briefly at Louis Vuitton’s. I look-and-try-on-but-don’t-buy a gorgeous silk and cashmere leopard scarf; I’ve been wanting it since I saw my sister wear it to a Bar Mitzvah last September. I’m tempted but resist. We leave the store and Alexander announces, “Now I remember why I don’t like shopping.” I don’t ask why.
On our way to Bloomingdales, Alexander says, “I’m hungry! Can I get a pretzel? Oh, maybe I’ll get a hot dog instead. Can I have that?” He’s like a three year old. Certainly we can do better than street food. We pass a sleek looking place called Pop Burger, and decide to have lunch. The inside looks less sleek…more like a souped up Burger King, but clean, and pricey. We each order a diet coke and two cheeseburger sliders (that’s how the order comes) and split an order of fries. $31, and that’s with no tip (there is no wait staff). Still, It’s a nice break after an hour of shopping, which is about the max that Alexander can go without wanting to do something-anything-else.
We finish lunch, and walk the two blocks to Bloomingdales. We go to the denim department and shop for jeans. We look at two different shades of grey jeans. I ask one of the sales clerks if they have any that are “darker.” He seems confused, and then directs me to Dockers. My Boston accent must be stronger than I think.
We leave the store with two pairs of jeans (one chocolate, one light grey), a beautiful blue and white shirt, and a big smile on Alexander's face. On our way home he says, “I’ll make dinner. I’m thinking fish.” I guess when you're a 19-year old boy, food will always trump shopping.
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