I took my 14-year-old granddaughter, my 8-year-old granddaughter, and their 12-year-old cousin shopping. We went to the mall—the big one. The one with all the hip stores.
As we were nearing the parking area, I asked a question, “Where are we going first?”
The 12-year-old said, “Park near Macy’s. It’ll be more convenient to start from there.”
“Yeah, we have a list of the stores we want to go to. They are in order, by location,” the 14-year-old added. “We looked at the mall map online.”
The first store was the “PINK” store or at least that’s what I thought it was called. It was very interesting—virtually every item had “PINK” written somewhere irrespective of the color of the clothing. The sales clerks seemed more like waitresses. They were all dressed in black and were wearing a large belt with a holster holding an order pad. A 45-year-old dad walked in and announced that it was his daughter’s birthday the next day. This smallish girl-in-black pounced on him like a dog on a bone. She had dollar signs in her eyes. It was expensive. My granddaughters got several items, all with “PINK” emblazoned somewhere. It was expensive.
The young girl at the cash register looked to be about 12. She handed me the receipt and I was stunned.
“Girls are expensive,” she said. It wasn’t the amount of the bill, it was VICTORIA’S SECRET. I had taken my granddaughters and their cousin to Victoria’s Secret. This is the store men go shopping for their thin wives or…well you know. I should hide this receipt from my daughter, but everything has PINK emblazoned on it.
With extra care, we were on to the American Eagle Store. I announced that torn and ripped jeans were not allowed at Brandon Oaks and I was adhering to that policy. Luckily, skinny jeans without holes were on sale. Also, Tees were on sale—buy one get 2 free. This selection took 30 minutes and two trips to the dressing room.
A young female sales clerk was lurking nearby because she wanted her name on this sale. She was wearing black ripped jeans. I asked her what was so cool about ripped jeans. “You noticed them’ didn’t you? I like to be noticed.” I am still thinking about that comment.
With three tees and some blue jeans plus a cute little charm bracelet for my 8-year-old, we set off for the Hollister store. This store has everything that is current in California. It used to take several years for fashion trends to move in from the coast, but now it is instantaneous thanks to globalization or something. Interestingly, this store had young guys as sales reps and were they polite. “Hello, sir.” “May I help you, sir.” The 14-year-old found a great pair of skinny jeans, but they had one hole in the knee. The pleading began, but she had an ally—the guy was telling me how amazing it was that the jeans only had one hole. I was outplayed and overwhelmed. My 8-year-old was mostly disinterested, but she sighted a shirt that she liked. She felt like a big girl heading off to the dressing room.
With three stores under our belt, it was time for a break. Universally, it was a vote for Chick-fil-A. It was the smallest check of the day.
Next ONE! Aeropostale! I felt a small surge of energy after some chicken and a restroom break. Basically, it was the same drill. Look at the tees and shirts. Grab two or three and head for the dressing room. It’s two for one so why not get four. While I was waiting one of the clerks gave me a lesson in the proper pronunciation of the store name. “It is not the postal which means losing it in front of everyone—it’s more like pasta but not quite. You know.” “AEROPASTA!” “That’s right, now put the L on it.” She left with a sense of real accomplishment and left me as confused as ever.
My 8-year-old bought fake fingernails in Christy’s. What a store—how do they make it.
WE left the mall to find our car and head to Dick’s Sporting Goods. I had no idea why, but we headed in that direction. At Dick’s, we ran into Kelli, my son-in-law’s sister. She has this wonderful habit of rescuing me on these adventures with my granddaughters and their cousin, who happens to be Kelli’s daughter. The first time was at the trampoline park which was very dangerous for an old guy. This time it was exhaustion—we had been shopping for 4 hours. They all disappeared, including Kelli. I sat on a counter for 45 minutes
Kelli looks at me and says, “When are you going to learn?”
With my granddaughters, probably never, but I plan to enjoy it all. It is so wonderful to love them without condition.