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Banned
Join Date: Dec 2004
Posts: 8,403
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BodyPoints: 39581
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The Buckle: Hell from which there is so escape.
I got two-hundred bucks from my grandpa for a birthday present, so I decided that I would try and blow some of it at the mall. I was deciding on what to spend it on, and then I saw The Buckle. It looked like a nice store with decent clothing, so I decided to go inside. That was my first mistake. I got five feet into the store before I was raped by a worker.
"Hi, you're looking cute today! Let me show you a pair of jeans that would look good on you!" an obese woman in her early twenties shrieked at me.
I had no intentions on buying any jeans, as I am a guy who goes into a place knowing what he wants. However, I did not want to appear rude, so I decided to humor her. That was my second mistake.
"Here, these would look great on you!"
I looked at the jeans, and told her that they were atleast five inches too big.
"Oh, well, in that case, I'll just get you a bunch of pairs so you can find the size that fits you best."
"But I all ready know my size..."
It was too late, she was all ready rifling through crap, grabbing multiple pairs of jeans.
"Here, go try these on. I'll get you some shirts that will look really cute with those."
Shirts? How the hell did she know what my style was, what I wanted to buy, and how much I was willing to spend. I looked down at the jeans, and noticed that I was holding three pairs of jeans worth a cumulative $250.
I shook my head and entered the dressing room, which didn't have any mirrors. Why was this? Is it so that I have to go outside and be scrutinized by the workers? I would know soon enough.
"Hey, how are those jeans working out for you?"
"Um, I'm still working on them."
It had been all of thirty seconds since I entered the room, and she was all ready harassing me.
"Well, I found a few more jeans for you. These are a different brand, but I just know that they will look good on you. Here, I got you some shirts as well."
Seven different clothing articles were THROWN over the door as I was unzipping my fly. Protecting my eyes from the half dozen security tags that were threatening to poke them, I saw some XXL polos and ECKO clothing articles? ECKO, XXL? I'm not a gangsta here.
I was knee deep in clothing that I didn't want, and I hadn't even had a chance to look for stuff that I actually wanted. Before I had time to think, the she-devil returned.
"Hey, are you going to come out and show me how you look, honey?"
I had managed to get on the first pair of jeans, having to hold them up because they were so baggy. Stepping out of the room, the worker told me how cute and good looking the pants were. Was she blind or mentally handicapped? The jeans were falling off me, and she was trying to feed my ego.
"Look, miss, these really aren't my style, so if you'll kindly..."
"Oh, really, no problem. I'll be right back."
I shook my head in disbelief as she went back to the jeans, searching for more pairs of pants that I didn't want. How am I going to get out of here?
I decided to just call it quits. Enough was enough, I didn't have the patience for all of this. I gathered up the mountain of clothes that she had
picked for me, and took them up to the counter.
"Hey, where do you think you're going!? We're haven't even begun with you yet!"
"You must be joking, right? I don't have the kind of time or money to be shopping here, obviously. I'm terribly sorry, but I don't want any of this. I appreciate your help, though." I felt like crap, but this had to be stopped.
"You know, you could have said something to me, instead of making me do all this work."
"Making you? Ma'am, I didn't even ask you for help. I came in here to maybe buy a nice shirt or something, not three different outfits for a grand. Please, I'll help you put these back."
"Oh, you'll be putting all those back."
I looked at her in shocked disbelief. I mean, what the hell was this? My patience was at an end, so I decided to get rough.
"Look, I don't appreciate your attitude. You have no conception of what your doing and even less conception of what I want. Leave me alone and have a good day."
I slammed the crap on the counter and stormed out the entrance, with several little anorexic boys looking at me as though I had spat on the pope's grave.
I had no idea what I was getting myself into by going into this store. Are these people paid on commission? Or was this just a freak incident? I am seriously considering sending some kind of complaint to The Buckle, because this was a horrible experience. Probably worse than my few trips to Abercrombie.
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