How hard can it be to find a black, zip-up hooded sweatshirt? I think I have a better chance of a hoarde of agents and editors descending upon my home, clamoring for my grocery list, than I do of finding a black hoodie.
Having exhausted my usual retail haunts (yeah, that would be Wal-Mart), I ventured reluctantly to one of my personal levels of hell—a hoity-toity women’s clothing store at the outlet mall.
Me:Â Do you have any black, zip-up sweatshirts?
Clerk: I don’t believe so, but we have some lovely yellow ones on the clearance rack.
Â Me:Â I don’t want yellow. It has to be black.
Me:Â (refrains from saying “Because I :censor: said so, dumbass”)Â My ATV is black, and my helmet, gloves and goggles are pink and black, so yellow wouldn’t go.
Clerk: You could get a pink one.
Me:Â A pink sweatshirt would show the dirt too much.
Me:Â Yeah, like mud, trail dust, the occasional bug smear.
Clerk: Perhaps you’d like to try a men’s store? Or…(*pauses*)…Walmart?
Â Me: (refrains from saying :censor:Â you, lady)Â Good idea! They’re friendly there, and they don’t charge an arm and a leg for factory seconds and last year’s cast-offs. You have a nice day, though.
Â I hate shopping. Seriously. That’s why my jeans are faded beyond stylish and I own three pairs of shoes.Â Â :gaah:Â