Department Store Hell

Have you ever shopped in what I call a "low end discount department store?" What I mean is one that is known for its low prices on name brand items. Sure, you can save a buck, but you have to wade through a lot of crap first. Those clothes may not be this season or even last season, but by golly, they are Name Brand!

Name brands mean nothing to me. I didn't go in that store to find a name brand top to wear under my much too revealing dress. Just about the only name brands I know are Sag Harbor and Bobbie Brooks; one of which is now sold in Wal-Mart. There were too many choices like type, colors, sizes, fabric, solids, floral or patterned, and the clearance items appeared to be mixed in with the regular priced items. It really resembled a garage sale.

Some clothes had fallen off the hangers and were flung across the hanging rack making it an annoyance for anyone moving hangers to see other clothing items. I can only assume that when the item of clothing fell off the hanger, a customer decided they were doing the store a favor by throwing it on top of the rack of clothes, instead of leaving it on the dirty floor. Furthermore, the whole bending, stooping, picking up, and flinging of the garment must have worn said costumer out so much because they didn't even put it back on the hanger. I mean...really. How hard can it be to hang it back on a hanger??

The thing that really disturbs me about walking through a "bargain basement" type of department store, is the people who shop there show no respect for the store, the merchandise or even themselves enough to handle the items with care. The shoe department looks like a war zone of dead shoes strewed up and down the isles and laid out on the shelves minus a mate. I just don't have the patience it would take to find a matching pair of shoes in all of that clutter.

After my dissatisfying trip to the fitting room, I emerged from the hot musty smelling dressing room imagining that this must be what Hell is like. Hot skanky smelling dressing rooms, ill-fitting clothes, messy floors and things of all sorts thrown around like confetti. I felt sleazy as I left the store.

It is amazing to me that places like that stay in business and that people continue to give in to their Siren cries of discounts. What was I thinking when I walked into that "Den of Disarray?" Yet, I must confess, this wasn't the first time I'd ever ventured into such a department store. Oh no, I am a shamed to admit I have attempted to find clothing there before and failed. So, why did I think it would be any different this time?

At least I didn't leave my money with those money changers. Like Satan, I must put that store behind me. I must pray never to be lured through its dank doors again. For now, I have escaped the disorganized, dirty, drab, dismal, Department Store Hell.