Those salesgirls at Hermes are certifiable. I headed over there at lunch today to have some of my ties repaired including this bow tie. One of my favorites. A very attractive salesgirl is helping me out, explains how Hermes will clean and repair my ties, including my favorite bow tie pictured here, and then asks me, "So, you like our ties, oui?" I tell her I do and explain this particular bow tie is one of my favorites. She smiles and asks me, "You like ze bow tie?" "Yes, ma'am." I tell her. "I especially like the one with giraffes."
She tells me she needs to check the bow tie as it may be a rare and collectible design and asks me to step behind the counter. I follow her through a side door while telling her I don't doubt this bow tie is rare but I'm not selling - - although it would be nice to know the value strictly for insurance purposes and the next thing I know Hermes salesgirls are all over me giggling and wrapping me in Hermes ribbon and calling me Bo or I guess it was Beau...Anyway, it was terrifying. I yell at them, "Stop it. I'm a veteran for God's sakes." That doesn't help.
I think I strained my lower back during the melee. Around L4 to L5. But I make a run for it and I'm tearing down 5th Avenue covered in ribbon. Some guy from a bodega ran after me with orange tulips saying how good they'd look with the ribbon. What a day.
There are a lot of ways to die in NYC. Certainly going to NY Beverage in the Bronx for Barritt's Ginger Beer is one way but I never thought I could die in an Hermes store. The horror.