My sister and I went shopping at a very posh mall last weekend.
We went into a fairly upscale store called "Z Gallerie" just to poke around and see what there was to see.
Well, it turns out, there was quite a bit.
There was a woman in there, putting on a show.
And by that, I mean a woman whose every detail, from her mile high heels to her platinum blonde hair to what I can best describe as a "bedazzled poncho" was calculated to make you look at her.
And look people did.
But not in the way methinks she wanted.
My sister and I could not help but snicker behind her back, as she looked ridiculous but thought she looked awesome. You've seen these people, no? And all of what she had on was most likely very expensive, down to the little Yorkshire Terrier she was carrying in her arms and asking in a loud voice if her "Baby" was feeling ok.
So she flounces around the store, and as we are walking back toward the entrance, we see another lady with a bemused look on her face to match ours.
"That woman needs her head examined," the lady, a complete stranger, told us in a conspiratorial semi-whisper.
And listen, when you can get strangers to whisper about you behind your back while being mere feet away from you, you are doing something very, very, wrong.