Walking in – scanning the racks, “Black linen pants where are you”?
Disgruntled – “Pfft” no where to be seen, so grabbed another 2 styles 2 sizes of each. 8 and a 10.
Attendant “How many do you have”?
“I have 4”, smiling through gritted teeth.
Inside head “Can’t she count”?
Hands me the plastic number, and tells me if I need any help to let her know.
Inside head “Yes, she’s doing her job but I have walked around for 3 hours trying to find these stupid pants, and I have blisters on my feet – wore the wrong shoes and my temper is fraying & I’m quite capable of choosing my own clothes and my own size thank you… let me pass or I’m liable to throw myself on the floor right here and throw a tantrum”.
Into change room, strip off jeans and uncomfortable shoes – Inside head “Someone bring me a drink & a bean bag to flop in pleease , damn shoes!”
Small room with 4 mirrors and bright lights. Bending over to put leg in pants, “Hello wrinkly knees, you look worse from this angle”.
Oops scared the hell out of myself as a caught a glimpse of my naked rear in the mirror behind me.
Inside head “So that what it looks like from that angle”.
Pull up, do zip, do buttons and they hang.
Next size down pull up, do zip, do buttons and the pockets are pulling – too tight.
Inside head “Why the hell don’t they make a 9 ?? I’m a 9 for gawds sake, not an 8 not a 10 but a nine!
Leave dressing room. Attendant smiling “So how did you go”?
I glance, I smile, no…no thank you.
Inside head “Do YOU really care”?
Inside head “I need a size 9, I have wrinkly knees, my arse isn’t at all how I remembered.”
Yes ladies how much do we love shopping!