I walked in and the store was dark inside with only a few lights on. I asked if they were open and they said "yes, yes, of course." Hmmm. Okay. Put new meaning to fashion shopping in the dark.
Browsing through racks and racks of gag-inducing swimsuits I discovered that anything I liked didn't have my size. The days of carrying more than one item in a popular size are apparently over and gone. In the midst of desperately seeking swimsuit, a saleswoman approached and offered to help. I told her what i was looking for and that I didn't think they had anything that met my needs. She insisted that she could find exactly what I wanted. I shook my head and strolled away, looking one more time in case I had missed something suitable. (heh. swimsuit pun.)
The next thing I knew, the woman, who had that half-crazed look in her eye that commission hungry sales people can get, was shoving an armful of swimsuits into my arms and dragging me to the dressing room. Now, i don't know if she was trying to butter me up or was just a poor judge of size but half of what she handed me was two sizes too small. What remained was either hideous or mislabeled by a delusional manufacturer. One single piece actually fit. It wasn't exactly what I liked since it had a funky black and white pattern all over it... but it might have worked. Except for one tiny problem. Now I know my boobs have gotten less...endowed... because my everyday bras can testify to it. However, this particular bikini top somehow made me look like i was sporting Double-Ds.
The saleswoman asked me if everything was okay and i responded that i found one that fit but the way my breasts spilled out of it was pretty obscene for public wear. I stepped out of the dressing cubby so she could see.
"Looks great!"
"Ummm... my boobs..."
"They're lovely! Will that be Mastercard or Visa?"
After removing the top and letting her drag me to several more racks, I regretfully (not) told her that I just didn't see spending money on something that would get me arrested. I beat a hasty retreat for the lingere department, thinking I'd have better luck with a bra. I was immediately pounced on by another (very prissy) saleswoman who wanted to know where I was going.
"Lingere."
"You can't."
"I ...ummm... it's right there. I need a bra."
"Our systems are down. Can't you see the lights are out? Let me walk you to the exit."
I asked her why the hell the swimsuit department had just spent an hour trying to sell me a swimsuit if they couldn't actually SELL me anything. Heehee. The look on her face when she stomped off toward the swimsuits was priceless.
So, no cute halterdress going into my luggage tomorrow for the beach. Damn.
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