It’s that time of year again, when winter clothing is on super-clearance. I hate buying clothes, but I especially hate paying full prices. But I needed new sweaters-- I’d been living on my sister’s hand-me-downs all winter.
I really got some good deals. I bought ten sweaters, and paid less than seventy bucks-- many were marked down to $4.99 and made out of that ultra-soft velvety stuff. I was happy . . . until I got home.
As I was removing them from the bag, I noticed a smell of cheap perfume. I finally pulled the culprit from the bag and nearly gagged. It smelled like it had been drenched with some appalling designer-knock-off-stank-in-a-bottle, the kind that makes your eyes water and causes your offended nostrils to curl in outrage. I don’t know how I missed it in the store-- it was a reek which filled the room, a smell you had to give grudging respect for its bold pungency and tenacity.
My mama, who used to work in a clothing store, made me swear I would never wear clothes without washing them first, but I’m afraid the stink may defeat my washing machine!
Nothing to add to this but an anecdote. A friend of mine worked in a retail clothing shop. She knew someone was shoplifting in the changing rooms, but since the store doesn’t prosecute, she couldn’t call the police. All she could do was call mall security to have them escorted out, but since that doesn’t really accomplish much, she just kept asking the girl “Are you sure you don’t want to go back in the dressing room and just make sure you didn’t actually take anything” or something similar. After a few minutes, the girl gave in, went to the dressing room and left the store with a much thinner shopping bag then a few minutes before. My friend entered the changing room, very proud of herself to find the sweater sitting on the chair until she picked it up…the girl peed on it…alot… :eek:
My aunt manages a clothing store. She said that some customers don’t seem to understand that a dressing room is not a bathroom, and the lack of a toilet doesn’t seem to clue them in. They have actually found turds on the floor. (And the real bathroom is only a few paces away!)
I really, really hope this is just rare unfortunate accidents with little ones. But that’s the optimist in me talking. It seems people’s capacity for hideous behavior knows no bounds.