Adventures in the Lenox Outlet

I was at the Lenox outlet today in Cranbury when I realized just how old I've become. Granted it is raining out and it a Sunday, but who spends their time at these outlets? Old women and their fifty year old daughters and the men they drag with them. There was a pile of cheap polyester suits filing into the store and the lingering smell of 'White Linen' followed closely behind. I was there for a purpose you see. The mother-in-law promised to buy me some every day plates; the ones you use, not the ones that sit in a box until you are ready to have your first Thanksgiving dinner for the family. Dansk, Pfalsgraft, etc.We were there for something practical and useful. I got a kick out of the quintessential Jersey shore whore, parading around in her matching velour jump suit, thong visible through her pants, air brushed nails flaring through the air announcing, "Oh my gawd! Can you believe these freakin' prices? Thair sooper! I am stockin' up for Christmas. Ma, look at this one. How beautiful is that?" Her beefy cop husband trailing behind wheeling the cart, rubbing his face, wondering whether or not he should have shaved, but seemingly enjoying his time surrounded by plates and vases and dust collectors. My mind rushed into a thousand different directions, trying not to panic from the overcrowded store. I let the sister-in-law maneuver the cart and I walked straight towards the area that had the least amount of people- right in front of the cutting boards. I spent a few minutes there, catching my breath and trying to regain a normal heartbeat and get the stenc of old lady perfume out of my nose. The search was on however and I was ushered towards a set of Dansk plates arranged with stripes; the name of the design ( I know you're dyeing to know)- Orange Splash. The design was colorful and the depth of the soup bowl was acceptable; even the handle of the mugs fit all four of my fingers. Still, I felt as though I was settling. The orange, I wasn't nuts about. It reminded me of sherbert. Which isn't bad, but I envisioned eating steak or spaghetti off of that plate and decided against it. Onward we went, the pursuit for the perfect plate pattern and design continued. Along the way I became fascinated by the excitement in women's eyes when they picked up a 2nd quality vase marked down 20%. They'd turn to their girlfriends and show it off, the find of the century, then quickly place it into their carts, carefully, like a carton of eggs. Two ladies wheeled around strollers and I thought, how precious, they brought their grandkids. In the Christmas ornament aisle, bursting with "Baby's First Christmas 2003" trinkets and generic Lenox colored snowflakes, I peeked into the blue stroller only to see two puppies drooling on a rubber toy. I made eye contact with my sister-in-law and we both gave each other "the smirk". The one you give a person you know, when you want to say, "What the hell?!" The lady pushing the carriage smiled at us, thinking we were giving the "oh how cute they are" grin. Pressing on, we encountered the expected group of Asian tourists that somehow managed to find the factory store even though they are probably only here for a short vacation. Then there was the newlywed couple- girl, her mom and her fresh new husband, the grandma with her family, the grandson trying to entertain his grandma's needs by holding up different chochkeys asking if this one would do. In the end, there were no plates that suited my liking and the departure left me plateless. Yet my plate of experience felt full at the end of our outing. One more to add to the main course of blog.