A special discount store

Marilyn Pellini

As you may remember from a number of my previous stories, I was not born and raised in this area. Recently, I was with a group of women who lived here from childhood. They mentioned going to White Plains to do any of their major shopping, and especially going to Alexander’s. It was one of the first real discount stores in the area.

When I first moved to Katonah, I was very eager to explore White Plains, and especially to go-to Alexander’s too. We moved here on the Friday before school was to open, and my son Michael was going to start kindergarten on that following Wednesday. It was an extremely busy time, getting a new house in order, our first child off to school, a husband starting a new job in New York City, and having a small toddler daughter to care for. I could not wait, however, to get down to explore the shops in White Plains, and do some REAL shopping.

By mid-October, I was ready to go out exploring. The kids were in need of some new winter clothes, and I was even beginning to think about shopping for some bargains before the Christmas season arrived. After getting Michael off to school one morning, I told my daughter Lynn we were going to ride down to White Plains to look for some new clothes for her and her brother. She seemed especially excited to do this, and ran off to her room to get dressed. I offered to help her pick out something special to wear for our little excursion, but she being the most independent child I have ever known, insisted she would dress herself. I have to say she did not look bad at all when she left her room in a pretty pink dress with white socks and her black patent leather Mary Jane’s.

We started out as soon as Michael had left for school, because we had to be back in such a short time for his 11:30 a.m. dismissal. As we were driving along, Lynn timidly proceeded with the declaration, “Oh, Oh Mommy, I know I said I could dress myself, but I think I forgot something.” I quickly glanced in my rearview mirror as Lynn lifted the corner of her little dress only to reveal the thing she had forgotten was her underwear. She got very upset, and wanted me to turn around and go home. Lynn calmed down, however, when I said that the door right next to the parking area was the children’s department, and we would go right in and quickly buy some underwear, take her to the ladies room, and put it on. She would be all set for the rest of the morning. That is exactly what we did; catastrophe averted.

Lynn‘s next request was for a drink of water. I walked up to the very first salesperson I saw and asked if she could direct me to the nearest “bubbler.” She looked at me very quizzically and asked, “Where do you want to go?” I quickly realized she did not understand the word “bubbler.” My embarrassing moment was standing there for quite some time before I could think of the words “drinking fountain.” Back in my home state of Rhode Island, it was always called a “bubbler.”

It seems that both Lynn and I had embarrassing circumstances connected with our trip to Alexander’s that day. I did, however, make many more successful trips back to that store with no mishaps, and I, along with many others, was so sad when it closed its doors a number of years later.