I Hate Shopping

SHOPPING BAGS 300x193 I Hate Shopping

I tried to go shopping today.

I say tried because my attempt was highly unsuccessful. I tell you I hate shopping.

I got hot, took off my scarf, then got cold, so put it back on and then started sweating like a pig. All in the name of trying to pick up a few clothes this is what I had to go through. The lights in these stores are so bright and hot. They give me migraines and make me want to throw up.

Then you have to queue for changing rooms that may have doors so high up that practically your whole leg up to your knee is exposed. Yes this happened to me today in a shitty changing room. I hadn’t shaved my legs so I wasn’t best pleased. In the changing room you have to start stripping, messing up hair and getting yourself flustered to find that what you have picked doesn’t fit, and these useless bitches called sales attendants (sorry if you are one, perhaps YOU aren’t useless, but my guess is you probably are) aren’t there waiting to see if it fits or not and get the right size for you if it doesnt No, no no, that would be too easy.

You have to take off the thing you tried on, put alllll of your clothes back on and go and search for the right one and start the process over again. And heaven forbid if you take in more than four items because that is not allowed anymore than four and you are trying to rob the place, but again, the useless bitches aren’t on hand to bring the ones that they are holding for you, you have to put on your original clothes and go and get the ones you havent tried on yet, which rules out any mixing and matching you may want to do.

Yes this all happened to me today.

After the four only fiasco in a local shop I headed down to Oxford Street to see if I could pick up a few bits. I went into a shoe shop off Bond Street. I tried on these sandals. It felt a bit loose and baggy. The sales attendant says to me,

“Oh I wouldnt worry, your feet swell up in the summer anyway, so theyll be alright.”

I’m not trying to hear this bitch talk shit to me. My feet don’t swell so what the hell is she talking about? I ask the other sales attendant who brought me the shoes in the first place if she could get me the next size down. She brings them and I am fidgeting about, they are too tight so when she asks how they are I tell her so. Why did the crazy bitch butt in again talking about,

“Oh the material stretches anyway, so theyll be fine.”

Do you see how she contradicted herself in a 5 minute time frame? I wanted to shout,

“WELL IF MY FEET ARE GOING TO SWELL AND THE MATERIAL IS GOING TO STRETCH MAYBE I SHOULD JUST GET THE RIGHT SIZE!!!”

I didn’t though; I just got the hell out of there.

So I walk down Oxford Street, and go into another shop. The bright lights are giving me a headache. I actually can’t be bothered to try anything on. I’m kind of pissed that I’ve been “shopping” for a few hours but haven’t actually bought anything, so I leave the shop and light a cigarette. Whilst walking down the street I hear shouting through a megaphone. It’s a man preaching about God. Why did this fool zone in on me with the megaphone,

“You dont need a cigarette young lady.”

I ignore him because he is drawing attention to me on a crowded street. I kind of want to laugh but I keep a straight face. He walks a few steps alongside me WITH the megaphone,

“You don’t need a cigarette to relax you Let the Lord relax you.”

I couldn’t help it… I burst out laughing and I couldn’t stop. For the next 5 minutes I walked down the street chuckling like a psycho. People probably thought I was smoking a Whitney type cigarette.

Well that was my day and I would just like to reiterate

Shopping is shit.

That’s why I need to be rich and have someone else do that shit for me.

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