Okay. Okay. I need to take a few deep breaths before writing this post.
Ladies, you are not going to believe this (and Gents, you really should stay tuned, too, especially if you’re having trouble in the dating world and don’t know why).
I went to Talbots* today, with Babs. Not because I love Talbots, or even because I needed clothes, but because I wanted to go shopping, and Babs loves Talbots. I was wearing a lovely, feminine, new pink top that Babs bought me from the Gap, and I was feeling quite delicate and spiffy.
As we roamed the racks, I loaded my arm with a few articles of clothing. A female sales clerk, about my age (29), wandered over and asked the typical, “Can I start a dressing room for you?”
“Yes, thanks, that would be great,” I replied, also in typical fashion. I transferred my findings to her and continued to sort through the on-sale pants.
Then…
Then!
Then!!!
She says, “I can see we’re about the same size. I have trouble fitting in those [pants you really like and were planning on trying on, and perhaps even spending your hard-earned money on]. We have a promotion now on our curvy line. Let me grab you a pair. …I don’t mean to deter you or anything.”
Wha…
Huh??
Who…are…
AHHHHHH!!!!!!
No. No no no. This is NOT okay!!!! Her Girl Card should be revoked IMMEDIATELY. Men, if you’ve hung on this long, you’re tops. Also, don’t EVER talk about a girl’s size, or compare her to anyone else! This is like…I can’t even…
Oh. I’m so sad.
*Talbots, in case you don’t already know, is an obnoxiously boring, stuffy “clothing” store where they only sell things that dated, snotty, meanie-heads would wear. (Sorry, Babs. But I’ve been trying to tell you. For, like, 15 years.)
Go Jules Go 