OK, everybody, this is serious business. What the hell is going on? I went shopping today. This is a difficult thing for me to do, and I often reserve it for the more enjoyable outings I can have with my mother by my side. Otherwise, I probably only shop twice a year (excluding Christmas shopping, which is a whole different world). I am just not a fan; I more often find it frustrating than lucrative.
So I went shopping today because my brother is getting married in a week, and I thought that maybe I should wear something nice.
Apparently, none of the stores in the entire city want me to look beautiful for my loving, fabulous, super-special brother and his blushing bride.
They want me to show up in these gray pants that I wear every day (and have worn for the last two years). They want me NOT to wear my hot silver shoes. They want me to look the fool. Know how I know? Because everything in every one of those stores was ugly as sin. Ugly. As. Sin.
I didn't even find one thing I would consider trying on. This was not an issue of not liking the way the clothes looked on me. No. The problem here was that people apparently think that I want to look like I walked through a garbage can, ripped my dress seven times, spilled some ink on myself, and then decided to go to the wedding. Now that's fashion.
On the way back from shopping, I sat dejectedly in my bus seat. Exhausted, disappointed, and hungry. The woman next to me had such horrible breath that I could smell it from where I was. That's poweful halitosis.