Rambo Shop

I admit it. I used to Rambo Shop.

Do not confuse this with Commando shop. Trying on clothes with no underpants is just NASTY!

Ewww.

But I did Rambo shop. Especially when I was with my mother and sister. We would set off at some AM time and travel a half hour to an hour away because everybody knows that it is hard to find clothes in Mac town. Anyway... we would set off on a LIS/SIS operation. (long inseam/short inseam) Pants were the goal and we were going to do anything that it took to get them.

Upon arrival we would relieve ourselves of the soda that we had consumed in transit. That my friends is the last time we would see a bathroom for the next 8-10 hours.

The next 3 hours would be spent following my little sister around trying on sizes that I couldn't get my left calf into.

All by itself.

Alone.

Then she would find sweet success in a store for tiny people with short legs, and the search for the 36" inseam pants would begin. After several strike outs I would wind up with something akin to capri's and resign myself to what would would become the 6 1/2 year search for khaki pants. (Seriously... from my junior year of high school to my first year of teaching I searched for khaki pants. Gap On Line $19.99 my saving grace.)

After the Three to Four hour search for long pants my mother would walk into Christopher and Banks, and at this point my sister and I would set up a fox whole in the dressing room next door to hers and would randomly comment on the nasty leftover fast food we found under the bench in the dressing room. Food that could only be seen when laying on the bench with legs up in the air resting on the wall.

I will have you know that my legs were up in the air in order to drain the blood that had collected in my swollen feet back to my head.

27 tops and 15 pants try ons later one of us declares mission accomplished, and we all decide that our throbbing heads must mean that our blood sugar levels have hit rock bottom along with our spirits. We would then head to a restaurant where we would go straight to the bathroom and then to our booth. Food would then be consumed in glorious quantities and we would travel home exhausted and victorious.

Victorious we would show dad our purchases in all of their glory and he would say his usual "Well, that's neat." and "I like that's" or my sister's personal favorite, "That's interesting... are you going to wear something over/under that?"

Rambo women we certainly were. Refusing to support our physical well being all in the Blessed name of Shopping.