I hate shopping with all of my heart. I stumbled around the mall for hours yesterday, and despite going home nearly empty handed, I did learn some invaluable lessons.
- Do not walk into any store with a number or a fruit in the store name (Forever 21, Papaya, etc.). Stores like this carry skirts with hemlines so high that I’d have to introduce my pussy to people at parties: “Hi, I’m D. This is my pussy. We’re glad to meet you.” The clothes are cut for ‘tween sluts and working hookers.
- At the mall, no one in lingerie boutiques or “intimate apparel” departments thinks that boob jokes are funny. I do not understand this. Perhaps the people there are forbidden to smile.
- Humor is also forbidden. When I realized I was being watched by a waif sales girl at Victoria’s Secret after examining a pair of terribly over-priced panties for over five minutes, I smiled and explained, “I’m checking them for stretchy-ness.” She was not amused.
- No one makes stilettos in wide-widths. I should have realized this.