Cheap Ass Bitch

Did I mention than on occasion I am what one might call a - cheap ass bitch?

In general, you will not find me in the mall shopping for clothes. Clothes are expensive. Especially when you cheap out on the generic laundry detergent and you clothes actually begin to disintegrate after 3 or 4 washings. Who can afford to spend 50 buck on a shirt that has a hole in the neck from some battery acid detergent after you've only worn it a couple times?

Anyway - I am particularly in love with this one Cheap Store. I will not share its name, as those who know me - know of which store I speak. And those who don't know me, well, you really shouldn't be judging someone you don't know, now should you?

The point, is that today is the first day of a well-deserved vacation and I thought it was appropriate to celebrate by buying some cheap ass clothes.

I dutifully traveled to the Cheap Store to see what loveliness I might find to cram into my closet.

On a side note - I usually hit the Cheap Store at 10:01am on Saturday mornings, as it's right next door to a bookstore/coffee shop and that ain't a bad way to spend a Saturday morning. So, I am not exactly used to running into actual patrons of the Cheap Store, as I show up one minute past opening and am out of there in 20 minutes flat. It's just me and the teeny tiny shopkeeper chippies and that's always worked just fine for me.

As you might guess, at 7pm on the day before a big holiday weekend - it's a little busier. Not only busier, but jam packed. Not just jam packed, but packed with people who one might not consider socialites of the highest order. In fact, I walked into some kind of bizarre milieu where everyone was loud, everyone was bumping into me and everyone was yanking their kids by the arm (the ones that actually had any idea where their kids were - hint: peeking under my dressing room door). In fact, one patron (who sadly had hit the Mad Dog 20/20 a little hard before she went clothes shopping) was actually getting the boot as I was exiting my dressing room - careful not to step on the little street urchin who had previously been staring at my potential purchase and yelling - "That's really orange!"

Even though I'd considered buying the "really" orange shirt, I left it on the return rack and exited the Cheap Store with as much haste as my flip flops would allow.

It left me feeling a little icky and remembering the adage - you are what you eat. But what if you are also where you shop? That was more than I was willing to consider and so I rushed a few stores down and popped into my books and coffee shop. I tried to melt in with the snobby books and coffee people. And while I can get snooty with the snobbiest, there is the teeniest tiniest part that is probably also just a cheap ass bitch.