In an attempt to avoid the 90+ degree 150% humidity weather at Jazz Fest, I spent the day in the cool comfort of the mall. It's simply amazing, given the state of the economy, that the stores were still bustling with idiots. My objective was simple; I needed to find something to wear for family pictures. After an unsuccessful attempt at locating what I wanted in a local department store, I headed back to the mall to seek and destroy. This is where I get a little bit bitchy, so follow along and imagine this face speaking to you...
|Get out of my way. Seriously. Then get out of my mall.|
1. I realize some of you consider a day at the mall to be a family event. Perhaps you have small children with you, a relative in town, three of your sisters decided to join you for girls day, etc., and I applaud your desire to spend time with these people. Good for you. Family is important. I would like to politely request though that when you do this... you learn to walk no more than 2 people shoulder to shoulder. In the name of all that is good and holy... do NOT walk side by side in a chain of 6 + people. What in the hell are you looking for? An opposing team to play freaking Red Rover Red Rover? NO ONE'S COMING OVER! Ya know why? Because they can't break through your iron curtain of strollers, bags, and stupidity. BREAK IT UP... If I have to walk at your snail's pace there's a damn good chance I'm going to be spotted by...
2. The kiosk people at either the Dead Sea scrub place or the dude who always wants to show me how nice my hair would look if I properly flat ironed it. No thanks man, I don't need to see how much dead skin you can scrub off my hands. I don't want to buy your snake oil potions. I also don't want you touching my hair with your cootie-infested implement of hair destruction. More than that.... my hair is naturally curly and the idea of you straightening half my damn head doesn't seem like the fashion statement I'm looking to make. No, I'd really like to just make my way past without you touching me or attempting to negotiate my willingness to stop and check out your wares. The same goes for you Mr. Gold Chain seller. I'm not your babe, sweetie, sweet thang, or anything of the sort. There's a reason I don't have a big fat gold chain on right now. The reason is that it looks ridiculous. Following me while talking to my back will not further your cause. Go back to your cubicle of fortune. I have to get to the Buckle.
3. While I realize that many of the mall stores have commission based sales staff, I would appreciate it if you lovely folks used a bit of common sense when bringing me clothes to try on. If I have taken 3 pairs of jeans to the changing room and there are two pair of size 9s and one pair of 11s, please do not insult me by saying, "I've got a couple pairs you should try on." then handing me size 5s. Either you are incapable of reading the tags of the ones I passed out to you, or you really feel that I am simple enough that I will be so excited that you THOUGHT I looked like a size 5 that I will buy whatever you have to sell. Let's make a deal mmmkay? I will not insult your intelligence by assuming that you're incapable of understanding numbers if you stop believing flattery will get you everywhere. If we are going to continue to play this game, one of these days I'm going to put on those 5s and die of suffocation in your little slotted door changing closet. Try explaining THAT to your boss.
4. And of course, no trip to any store would be complete without at least 5 separate incidents of parents who refuse to maintain control of their children. If your child is screaming, do the rest of the world a favor and take the little darling home for a nap. My kids misbehaved from time to time when they were little. The difference between you and myself is the following; I didn't let my children interfere with other people's time in public places. I made sure they knew the rules before we entered an establishment. If they refused to comply, we went home. Yes, I understand it's inconvenient for you, but if you recall... that's sort of how this whole parenting gig works. You could also kindly keep your kid from bolting out from under the clothes racks and peeking under my changing room door, thanks! And one more thing... when you don't handle it at a young age, you end up with those insufferable teenagers who back talk their parents. I don't make it a habit to physically harm people... but this makes me want to spank you both. Take heed... that little monster you aren't controlling now will turn into that big monster I overheard today telling her mother, "You're a b*tch. I hate you!"
I believe these little tips and tricks will make my shopping experience much more pleasurable. By the time I was finished today, I wanted nothing more than to comfort myself with a big fat cinnamon roll, a thick slice of pizza, and an Orange Julius. I totally would have too if those places weren't so close to the crazy folks from #2. I think I'll just order a t-shirt from Mommy Wants Vodka for pictures... nothing says family picture like a shirt that says "Shut Your Whore Mouth" right?! :D