Window Shopping

Today I went shopping with a girlfriend of mine. While we get along really, really well, we're almost at complete opposites of the spectrum.
First, the similarities:
We're both tall - she's easily 5"8, as am I.
We both play saxophone, although she plays alto and I play tenor, and we have the same teacher, even though we're in different schools.
And that's where the similarities end.
Personality wise, image wise, fashion-sense wise, music-taste wise, we're almost completely opposite. Which leaves me at a loss as to how we can possibly survive as the tight pair of girls we are.

So we're in Dotti today (a shop for girls like her - that like flowery skirts and A-Line shirts), and she's holding up all these shirts against me as if to say 'That colour looks good on you!'. I'd never wear any of this stuff, but if I say anything, she will be offended and get all huffy, so it's best to humour her.

And then we're jewelry shopping, and I'm looking at all these chunky ID bracelets, even though I already have about five Sterling Silver bracelets just like them, and she's looking at 3" gold hoops to put through her ears. If she buys them, she'll put them on immediately, and then complain that they're brushing against her neck, but will refuse to take them off. Because that's just how she works.

Have you heard of the coloured contacts that Gloss is selling? They come in all different colours, and some of them even have patterns and things on them. I'm soooo tempted to buy bright green ones (I have very dark brown eyes - almost black), just to freak people out, and she takes one look at them and moves on. It's weird; they're the sorta thing I would've though she would have been interested in, but shows how much I know.

Anyways, it was really, really fun window shopping with her, because she is so easily led off the garden path. I'm fairly sure she will never be able to show her face in Spend-Less Shoes again, simply because of all the antics I dragged her through. Such as mixing 5" high heels made to go with flapper dresses at nightclubs with mens golf shoes, and then walking around in them, and asking a cashier if she thought the combination looked any good. I was rolling on the floor in tears, wearing, as I was, my sensible standard-issue Converse low-tops, and the cashier is looking at her as if to say 'Are you really serious, Miss?' If I were that cashier, I probably would've said 'Sure they do, sweetie, would you like me to box that up for you?' Just to have some fun. Instead, she just stands there like a kill-joy. But oh well; not everyone can have an amazing sense of humour, I guess.