Shoppers vs. non Shoppers

I took my 12 year old daughter shopping over the weekend to spend her birthday money. Hot Topic is one of her favorite stores and one of my least favorite. I always feel out of place due to my lack of facial piercings and abundance of facial wrinkles.

My daughter has always been a shopper. I have never been a shopper. I’m a get in, get your shit and go kind of girl.  My daughter had warned me on the 45 minute drive to the mall to not point things out that I like (especially pink things) because that gets on her nerves. Aw, thank you sweetie, I will ponder that advice right after I merge on to the free way next to these two fucking 18 wheelers, or better yet, lets TEXT about it right now!

She was already a little bent out of shape because she had found a pair of jeans ONLY available online at Hot Topic & not available in the stores.

When we walked in, we immediately set off the store alarm which believe it or not was louder than the music blasting through the store and was making my chest do that weird vibration dealio.  All pierced eyes shot to me including my (so far un pierced) girl who looked at me like I had a bomb strapped to my body & was on the verge of saying “Help me, this isn’t my mom, call 911”.   Freaking traitor.

I froze waiting for the swat team to move in while the clerk with a bull ring (think it’s called a septum piercing because its cooler when it's anatomically named) asked to see my bag (which came from the super cool accessory store that I’m thinking about trying to hide in after they close & just live in-sheesh, I digress). I practically threw my bag at Bull Ring-Take it! Take it! I know my shirt isn’t black, and the only holes in my face are just giant pores & would never pass for piercings, but I swear I’m a good guy! I come in peace!

Bull Ring found and removed some secret alarm dealio in the tag of a scarf that we had purchased at the black tar accessory store for Addie’s favorite teacher. Whew, I do NOT want to be on the Hot Topic do not shop list.

Then the shopping begins. If I liked it, my daughter hated it. I learned in short order NOT to respond if she asked my opinion.

My girl found her skinny black & red plaid online only jeans hanging on a tippy top rack, died & asked “Aren’t these COOL?” Uh, yeah if you’re fucking Braveheart or need to re-upholster your bag pipe.   Please dear God let them have her size.   I just said “Wow!” and that worked-Yay! They had her size-so score one!

Then she wanted a belt. Upon hearing THAT, I thought Thank God, this will be easy squeezy.  But, my girl spent half an hour looking & trying on belts alone! They were ALL the same except the color & size! I tried to explain to her that the sizes were actually written on the inside of the belts, so if we could figure out HER size, we could narrow down our search.  OMG..no no no! I would have been better off suggesting a pink tutu and blunt bangs. Bite tongue to keep mouth shut.
 It  turned into: Trying EVERY belt on, realizing after 10 minutes that trying belts on OVER the belt she had on might not be a good idea, taking own belt off (which was so fat that it took 5 minutes to unlace from each belt loop & ripped off the neon green duct tape that held old belt together), drop old belt on floor, pick up a pile of jeans that a lady next to us knocked off a clearance shelf after stepping on old belt, realizing the new belt that she likes and actually fit & finally decided to buy had a little bit of paint chipped off one of the cheap plastic studs.   Hey Bull Ring-Where do you keep the fucking tongue gauges because I think I can use one now? I prefer pink with glitter & shit.  Try to explain to my daughter that I can totally fix the chipped paint on the shitty belt with a sharpie & a little tempera paint & I will totally buy the fucker myself if we can get the hell out of this store.

We then go to Forever 21 for more jeans. Walk the entire store with chest music blasting on both levels looking for the elusive table of skinnies for $9.50 (that everyone wears). We finally find them near one of the obscure entrances that nobody uses. I do a happy dance- I mean a need to pee dance (after 2 1/2 hours of kilt jeans & shitty belt shopping) & I accidentally step outside the god damned alarm pillars. My kid looks me dead in the eyes & takes off running (kidding). She just yelled “Oh My GOD MOM WHAT THE?!” Being a lady of grace, I kept my cool and simply asked the mall swat team where I could find the earDRUM gauges, particularly the sparkly pink ones.

<3 you Birdie! It was a fun day.