Beware the Orange Women
I've found the best time to shop at Costco is Wednesday nights, but Thursday isn't bad either. Sometimes I find the whole shopping at Costco thing a bit challenging.
Occasionally,I run across a species of aggressive shopper I call the "orange women"- I also encounter them at my local Safeway and Starbucks. Who are these orange women you ask?
Well, our modest abode is next to an enclave of McMansions (this is the orange women's habitat) with their big SUVs- you know the GMC Gigantor, or the Ford Wooly Mammoth, or the Hummer Stadium on Wheels- you get the idea. Usually behind the wheel and on her cell phone is an orange woman. I call them orange because that is the hue of their skin, it seems that they are all devotees of the tanning booth- how else could you explain their tan in Oregon this time of year?
In addition to the hue of their skin, they also have long acrylic nails, perfectly coiffed hair, low-rise jeans, braclets, necklaces, rings, galore. The make-up is always on- the eye shadow, mascara, lipstick, the full meal deal. They also weigh about 95 lbs, but yet have large double D breasts that are abnormally rounded and up by their collarbone. They remind me of an updated version of Michelle Pfeiffer and the female characters of "Married to the Mob" (a realy funny movie, check it out on rental if you haven't seen it)
I usually encounter them shopping. Amazingly they shop in high heels with really pointy toes. They generally shop while on the cell phone, and they drive that way too. They've pushed passed me as if I don't exist, and they really are women on a mission while shopping. I don't know if they are rude to me because I'm clearly not one of their kind- my skin color is one step above albino, I haven't weighed 95 lbs since 8th grade, and my boobs are real.
Anyway, I was driving to Costco in my little economy car and wouldn't you know it an orange woman on her cell phone in her Ford Wooly Mammoth was driving right on my ass into the Costco parking lot. Then I thought I had lost her, only to encounter her again blocking two open parking spots, apparently having some sort of cognitive breakdown over having to choose between two parking spots. Because my car is not the size of an Abrams Tank and therefore more maneuverable I made the decision for her by quickly swinging into one of the open spots.
Now when I shop I've decided to be as aggressive as the orange women- tailgating in the parking lot, running my cart agressively down the aisles of the Safeway, so that someday they will write a blog post about the pasty white women with their no make-up, tennis shoes, natural boobs and economy cars rudely disrupting their shopping experience.
Occasionally,I run across a species of aggressive shopper I call the "orange women"- I also encounter them at my local Safeway and Starbucks. Who are these orange women you ask?
Well, our modest abode is next to an enclave of McMansions (this is the orange women's habitat) with their big SUVs- you know the GMC Gigantor, or the Ford Wooly Mammoth, or the Hummer Stadium on Wheels- you get the idea. Usually behind the wheel and on her cell phone is an orange woman. I call them orange because that is the hue of their skin, it seems that they are all devotees of the tanning booth- how else could you explain their tan in Oregon this time of year?
In addition to the hue of their skin, they also have long acrylic nails, perfectly coiffed hair, low-rise jeans, braclets, necklaces, rings, galore. The make-up is always on- the eye shadow, mascara, lipstick, the full meal deal. They also weigh about 95 lbs, but yet have large double D breasts that are abnormally rounded and up by their collarbone. They remind me of an updated version of Michelle Pfeiffer and the female characters of "Married to the Mob" (a realy funny movie, check it out on rental if you haven't seen it)
I usually encounter them shopping. Amazingly they shop in high heels with really pointy toes. They generally shop while on the cell phone, and they drive that way too. They've pushed passed me as if I don't exist, and they really are women on a mission while shopping. I don't know if they are rude to me because I'm clearly not one of their kind- my skin color is one step above albino, I haven't weighed 95 lbs since 8th grade, and my boobs are real.
Anyway, I was driving to Costco in my little economy car and wouldn't you know it an orange woman on her cell phone in her Ford Wooly Mammoth was driving right on my ass into the Costco parking lot. Then I thought I had lost her, only to encounter her again blocking two open parking spots, apparently having some sort of cognitive breakdown over having to choose between two parking spots. Because my car is not the size of an Abrams Tank and therefore more maneuverable I made the decision for her by quickly swinging into one of the open spots.
Now when I shop I've decided to be as aggressive as the orange women- tailgating in the parking lot, running my cart agressively down the aisles of the Safeway, so that someday they will write a blog post about the pasty white women with their no make-up, tennis shoes, natural boobs and economy cars rudely disrupting their shopping experience.
posted by moegirl at
5:49 PM
4 Comments:
Oh, they scare me, these Orange Women. I just didn't know what to call them and now I do. Amazingly, they also exist in the frozen tundra, pointy stilettos slipping on the ice. Usually, they have some sort of furrish coatish thing on with decorative scarf in our winter. The dark glasses remain. Sometimes they are in the company of an Orange Man. I believe they live in an intersecting dimension and we are only seeing part of them at any one time. This also makes them unwieldly and, being only partly in our dimension, makes them cut us off, as they can't be expected to see us very well, can they? The phones are how they communicate interdimensionally. Poor, poor things.
By
Diana, At
12:58 PM
Orange women can be a little frightening at times, but as a women, I also have to say right on to them. It cannot be easy keeping your body is such good shape and having a possible staff infection under your thick, obviously eight layered nails and to have to walk around with your gut sucked in at all times because you have to wear teenager pants. no I say lets celebrated this distictive breed of woman. Ha Ha who am I kidding!!
By
Anonymous, At
3:33 PM
I know the type well! I'd like to think that there are less in PDX than, say, in Dallas, but percentage-wise who knows.
Here are some places you can go if you need some relief from the Orange Women:
Goodwill
the Dump
U-Pick berry farms
Hiking trails
The Sandy Hut
City Liquidators
The Hollywood branch library
The Spare Room tavern
By
Rozanne, At
6:15 PM
I know the type. In San Francisco we role our eyes at the East Bay women. They all look like that.
By
Anonymous, At
8:55 AM
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