Secret shopper

been doing a lot of this but not much else

I think I may have come up with the best new job.

First of all, I'm sorry for being so quiet lately. I worked something like 70 hours the week before last and about 55 hours last week. Quick recap: I've walked the dog quite a bit, but that's all. Groom took the dog birdhunting this past week, so I didn't even get some dog-walking exercise--though I did get to eat fresh grouse for supper tonight.  Local, traceable.

I went drinking and partying in Portland Friday night and, to be perfectly honest, I remember only about 15 minutes of it. (But the feeling that I had a great time continues to resonate through my marrow.)

I went to sleep Saturday at about 4 in the afternoon, woke up a solid 17 hours later, and worked out.

Heh-heh. No I didn't.

I volunteered my time at a soup kitchen and washed some dishes that were already clean.

No, no, sorry, no. I'm an asshole.

I went shopping.

While I was browsing the racks at TJ Maxx (I can make a rhyme any old time, and yes I know TJ Maxx isn't local but the only thing I can afford at Bliss is a scarf, as much as I love that place), I overheard a woman struggling with her daughter. It was the worst case of stereotypical mom and teen ever. The girl...I'm sorry young woman...was shuffling around, trying to distance herself from her mother, and mumbling inaudibly in response to the incessant "How about this? This color is good for you...." from her mother.

I was working the rack next to them (i.e., they were in "Juniors" and I was in "Old Ladies"), but I noticed a sweater the girl...I'm sorry young woman...had picked up and found one in my size. It was a cute little turtleneck. So, I grabbed it to try it on.

The girl...no, seriously, I'm sorry, young woman...saw me pick up her sweater and she put hers back. I'm not even kidding.

I pretended not to notice.

And then I went around grabbing items identical to hers--not all items, just a select few that I might plausibly wear--and she put every single one back on the rack. Every. Single. One.

Her mother was very much unhappy with her daughter's choices and I believe was very much relieved when she put some of those clothes back. I couldn't do anything to help the mom in the fitting room, however, when I overheard her mother say, "Honey, that's cute, but it's far too big."

The girl...it was a girl, come on...mumbled something in response that sounded like, "But I liiiiiiiike it this waaaaaaay."

Since everything I tried on was far too small, I knew I and my fat ass would be of no help. In other news, a turtleneck on my body, no matter how ironic I am trying to be, looks like hell.

I left them and went to another store. I was feeling pretty good as I squeezed into a pair of dressy pants and envisioned the type of boots I might buy to pair with them, when I overheard a woman...a real woman...in an adjacent fitting room ask the attendant to bring her "something a little smaller, maybe a size zero?"

Demoralizing.

I looked down at the size 14 loose-cut trousers I was wearing (damn you skinny jeans), with the cuffs extending about four inches past my feet and wondered how tall Miss Size Zero might be. I'm 5'8". I remember when I was in my 20s I wished to be taller, more filled out, bigger. I wanted curves.

You see, that was when I wore a size 0. And, I remember being pissed that clothing manufacturers thought I must be 5'3" to fit into their clothes; everything was too short. These days, I'm guessing those same manufacturers think I'm 6'4".

Oh! But, my new job. Yes, that was the point of this post today.

I'm going to follow moms shopping with their teenaged daughters and get those girls to stop picking terrible clothing, just by virtue of the fact that I am carrying it.