Tuesday, April 25, 2006

I hate to shop.

I mentioned a bit ago that I needed new pants. As I said in the title, I hate to shop. I don't do it well. I don't have the patience for it.

I want to walk in, grab what I want need, pay for it, and walk out the door. The only thing I will try on in the store is shoes, so that tells you how often I will buy them (they have to be falling off my feet).

It's supposed to be easy for men to shop for clothes. Shirt sizes are in inches. Neck sizes, sleeve lengths. Inches. And gay men know inches. So before I left the house, I looked at a pair of pants that fit, saw the size, and knew what I needed to buy. I got to the store, found the barely existing "Men's" department and searched for pants.

First, let me say THIS about THAT. I understand this is Florida. I get it. It's hot most of the year. But when did it become acceptable to wear nothing but knee length shorts to an office environment? What, you say? Never? Well, that's what I thought. So why were most of the items that included zippers in this particular Men's department all cut off and hemmed up at the half-way mark? Rack after rack after rack of them. And all of them some sort of earth tone or blue. Yuck.

So among the three shelf-racks (not hanging racks, I wanted to point out...) of pants none of them were flat-front. None. Of. Them. Hello??? Who are the buyers working for these stores? Fine. I got (insert vomit sound) pleated ones. Two pair of earth-toned pleated pants. I would have bought a third, except that they don't have a third pair in my size... It seems that only people who are six feet tall shop at this store. Oh, six feet tall and four feet wide. Seriously, there were dozens of 48 inch waist pants.

I did not try them on, as they were the right size. So then I waited in line, for over 10 minutes while the person in front of me watched each and every item be scanned and waited for the total from the poor overworked check-out-girl before reaching into his back pocket, removing the rubber-band from his wallet, and pulled out his credit/debit card.

Uhm... HELLO!!! Pull the fucking thing out and slide that bad boy while she is checking you out you stupid slope headed asshole, as that is the purpose of the credit/debit card machine right there in front of your flat face. Thank goodness he didn't whip out a checkbook. I would have screamed.

So I brought them home, washed-dried-hung them up and made dinner. Started getting angry at TheHusband for not taking out the trash, but thought better of it and did it myself. Then, went to bed.

Got up yesterday morning and put one of them on. Too small. WTF? I checked the size, no, it was right. How does this happen? An inch is an inch, no matter what country's sweatshop children were making them, right? In Singapore, in Guatemala, in China, wherever. An inch is the same everywhere. That is the beauty of Men's sizes. There is no margin for error. A size 30 means it is 30 inches. I now have two useless pair of pants that I didn't want anyway. Yay Me!

Of course the first thing I thought of was to get the receipt and return them next weekend.

Problem. I had thrown it away after I returned from the store.

3 Comments:

Blogger Steve said...

Ouch. I like shopping, but I really hate it... well, I hate clothes shopping. I'm tall & slim [6'4", 160lbs.], so it's really tough finding stuff that fits. When it comes to jeans, and I can find my size, they usually have 3, maybe 4 pair, so I buy 'em all.

4/25/2006 8:18 AM  
Blogger The Health-Bound Chicagoan said...

You just need to find the brand that fits you perfectly each and every time. I'm kinda petite, and so far I've found I can reliably count on Victoria's Secret London jeans and pants from Ann Taylor Loft. Not that that helps YOU any (lol!) . . . but I do recommend finding a brand you like :)

4/25/2006 8:33 PM  
Blogger Mike said...

Sorry Gina. My brand = cheap.

I hate to shop. Did I mention this?

And you are right, VS and AT brands will probably not help me.

4/25/2006 8:46 PM  

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