there's a reason it's called victoria's SECRET

victoria's secret, a women's undergarment store known for its catalogues and supermodels, was having a phenomenal sale this weekend. i'm not sure if the electric charge of having expensive merchandise marked down to semi-affordable ranges was what made people crazy, but there was definitely something in the air.

disturbing incident #1: my biggest pet peeve

i'm sorry, but boys should NOT be allowed in the ladies lingerie store! notice how i say boys. thoughtful significant others, who are sincerely shopping for their women (okay, let's face it, for themselves) in a sincere, respectful manner? A-okay in my book. what i CANNOT tolerate is when guys come in with their girlfriends, put their nasty paws all over everything while making lewd gestures and oh-yeah noises not unlike those of beavis and butthead and look around lasciviously at other women in the store. uh, NO. ladies! LEAVE YOUR STUPID, DROOLY BOYFRIENDS IN RADIO SHACK OR FOOTLOCKER SO I CAN BUY MY UNDIES IN PEACE! seriously, being in a store with these clowns automatically taints every item in the store and i must leave at once. it makes the idea of washing everything before wear even more essential.


disturbing incident #2: dumps like a truck truck truck

part of the phenomenal sale included bins of tangled underwear in all kinds of shapes in colors, simply sorted by size. and in the very center of the store, there was a table solely devoted to thongs, around which there was a bit of commotion. i was all the way over in the non-undies part of the store, but there was such a ruckus, i had to look over. two middle-aged women had taken it upon themselves to rifle through a mountain of floss, holding up items of curiosity such as a lovely fuschia number with sequins or the black with rhinestones or the teal with tassles. seriously, their picks were sort of raunchy and silly, and half the time they weren't sure which end was up.

'hey linda! how about this one?'
'ooh! definitely! it's got a charm on it!'
'no, no, this one is BETTER! it has BEADS!'

the rest of us were pretending we didn't hear them for the first couple of minutes, but then caught each other looking over at them with a shrug, as if to say, 'yeah, SOMEbody's a little excited about those.' it was a little uncomfortable in there until another lady asked them what all the fuss was about and they said they were buying a gag gift for their friend's fortieth birthday. at that point, everyone started chiming in with their advice on picks. what's up with older women and their underwear?


disturbing incident #3: the miseducation of harry potter

after i made my way over to the clothing section, i noticed a woman rifling through the contents of that same mountain of thongs. she was concentrating very hard, and taking care to dig all the way to the bottom, just so she wouldn't miss anything. she'd untangle one, hold it up, examine it from every angle and pause to decide. she was meticulous and thorough, which are great qualities to have when you're shopping. but not when you're in an underwear store with your ten-year-old son.

'can we go now?'
'huh? well, you had your chance to go with Erin, but you didn't want to.'
'i thought you'd be faster. you know she always takes FOREVER. geez, do you have to look at every single one?'
'well, honey, it's just that things in this store are normally very expensive, so when they go on sale, people...' (lapses into concentration)
'they want to make the most of it, right?'
'exactly.'

thing is, the kid was not too whiny, quietly standing by her, and -- most importantly -- he did not touch anything. however, he was paying very close attention to what was in front of him, namely the items being scrutinized by the woman. that in itself was troubling, because what little kid wants to watch his mother hold up lacy panties? eiw. not images i'd want of my parent. however, i think i was more upset than either one of them was. in fact, i'm still shuddering thinking about it.


disturbing incident #4: can i see your i.d.?

standing in line to check out was pretty interesting people-watching wise. there were older women in pairs, mom-and-daughter teams, giggly college students and women with their babies. but as i got closer to the front, i saw a group of two girls and a guy, making their purchase. the one girl was very cute and stylin with her shiny lipgloss and bedazzled jeans. she was all of fifteen, tops. she looked over her shoulder at the boy, who was no more than 92 pounds in his little alligator-icon collar shirt (with the collar down, thank god) and his Hollister shopping bag. now i could be wrong -- i had already been pretty traumatized -- when i thought i heard her say, 'you sure you really like it?' and he nodded yes. WHAT? these are CHILDREN!!! i highly doubt she was referring to a perfume she just bought, or that they're really brother and sister who were purchasing a gift for a family member. the cheesy grins and impatient feet-shuffling was all about the preteenage we're-'going out'-but-don't-actually-go-anywhere-mall-group-outing-pseudo-date. CHILDREN, I SAY! WHAT IS THE WORLD COMING TO?


i paid for my stuff and got the hell out of there as soon as i possibly could. yeah, i know. i belong in a different era. like a prudish, english, victorian one. regardless, i think it's going to be awhile till i go in there again. thank goodness they don't have sales very often.