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Articles: Adventures of the semi-nude. |
Posted by
Merry_Widow on Wednesday, September 10, 2003 - 12:03 AM PST
Common sense dictates that one cannot expect complete privacy and security when one is in the dressing room at a popular and crowded store. There are all sorts of people meandering about, looking for an empty stall, looking for a family member or friend, or what have you. So it's not unexpected to be walked in on, especially when the doors don't have little locks on them. I have been caught in several stages of undress by all sorts of people. Intruder reactions vary; some people are embarrassed, some angry because the stall they wanted is occupied, some more than willing to offer an opinion on the particular article of clothing being tried on.
I normally don't get too excited about crowded fitting rooms, it's all part of the fun when I go out shopping. But there is one thing in dressing rooms that I absolutely loath. Unattended children. Christ almighty, I can't stand it when kids are running around that place while their mothers blithely waltz around in front of the mirrors, trying to decide if the too small shirt they tried on is really too small. Mind you, I'm not completely heartless when it comes to kids. I know that mothers don't want to leave their little contraceptive accidents by themselves. But there is a limit to my patience, especially when the child is male, and old enough to behave himself outside of a ladies dressing room.
Like today. I was out shopping, being in desperate need of new jeans. I elbowed my way through the racks, grabbed some jeans that looked decent, then went to try them on. I got inside the dressing room, and the first thing I saw was an eight or nine year old boy, running around, making all sorts of horrible noise, whining, bitching about how bored he was, and he wanted to go home, hurry up mom, all that kind of stuff. I assumed his mother was behind the door he kept beating on, so I picked an empty stall across the aisle and about four doors down..As I began trying on jeans and wishing that I had hips, the disagreeable little shit outside was pretty much pushed from my mind.
That is, until, as I had my shirt hiked up pretty high in order to see how a waist line looked on me, the little punk burst into the stall. There was no way a kid his age could have mistaken my location for his mothers location. That alone was enough to irritate me. When he began laughing and pointing, saying rather loudly, in Spanish, that I was extremely white...well, that was about all I could take. I started yelling right back at him in Spanish. Now, my Spanish is not good. In fact, the only real vocabulary I have maintained contains rather inane statements and extreme vulgarity. This kid got earfuls of the vulgar portion. I'm pretty sure the sentences were pretty much incoherent thins, just one cuss word right after the other. All the same, it did the trick. He backed away very quickly, and I slammed the door behind him.
I changed back into my own clothes and got out of there.As bad as that was, the really, really infuriating part came when I was exiting the fitting room, the mother of the boy, with her son hiding behind her, told me I should watch my language. I could only shake my head and tell her she needed to watch her kid as I presented her with a wonderful view of my retreating back.
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Adventures of the semi-nude. | Login/Create an account | 11 Comments |
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Re: Adventures of the semi-nude.
by Squire-of-Gothos (Brian0049@hotmail.com)
on Sep 10, 2003 - 07:58 AM
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Indignance, a wonderful human virtue. You know, I can't say I've never deserved getting bitched at by a parent or customer during my reign as an asshole/cashier, but ediot, miscreant, and crappy parents seem to create the vast majority of our population. Their was a time when a kid acting like an ediot got schooled by an elder, and the mother or father apreciated said elder for keeping their kid in line when the parents couldn't. But now everyone is an expert child rearing machine, and no amount of disobedience or stupidity on the part of the child can tell them different. I can't tell you how many times I've seen absent minded parents just standing there saying, "Stop it, stop it, stop, I mean it, you should stop," so friggin absent mindedly its sad, while the kid sits their sticking a fork in an outlet or eating some paint chips. You know how my dad stopped me from screwing off? He back handed me in the face. Didn't beat me, just a quick smack in the face, and I shut THE FUCK UP. It works. Seriously, try it!
I don't condone beating your child, but when an idiot kid is flaking, and the parent doesn't repremand him, or puts him in time out, he grows into a teenager or adult with no regard for authority and asuming that their are really no tangible reporcusions for being bad. I see it all the time, and it sickens me.
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Re: Adventures of the semi-nude.
by Tvileren on Sep 10, 2003 - 02:36 PM
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You shoyld have slapped them both down. Rude people like that should be getting a couple of slaps, hard slaps...
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