In all the chaos of the past weeks I forgot to mention I finally stepped foot inside a Torrid store, the anti Lane Bryant. I went to the one in Toledo, Ohio to kill some time during the afternoon before my aunt got married. The salesmen in that mall are way more aggressive than the salespeople in our local mall. I was nearly convinced I wouldn’t make it out again without having a man in a white shirt garrotte me with his tie and yell “You must try our new cellular plan! If I don’t make quota I’ll be publicly beheaded!”
For some odd reason the only Torrid in Indiana is in Fort Wayne, not Indianapolis which is the state’s largest city and capital. Why? I have no idea. Perhaps Fort Wayne has a surplus of fat chicks. Even odder, the only thing I ended up buying was a pair of socks. I’m glad I had the wedding to attend because it would have been rather silly to drive four and a half hours to buy something I could get at Wal-Mart. They’re pink argyle socks with little skull and crossbones interspersed in the pattern. I like my socks to be as ironic as I am.
There were some cute things there, but anything I was interested in either didn’t flatter me or was too expensive. A lot of the clothes had too much of a “Fuck You” attitude for me to consider wearing, but I’m glad a store like this does exist for today’s teenagers. I sure could have used it 10 years ago when we couldn’t even order clothes like that online. Oh yes, back in my day we had it rough, kiddies. Be grateful for your punky fat girl clothes, even if you have to dodge salespeople like linebackers to get to them. You’re big, you can tackle them if necessary.