heheheheheheheee

I snagged this from an AIM buddy's profile. It's hee-larious.

http://mirror.randomfoo.net/memes/2005/06/Tom_Cruise_Kills_Oprah.mov

Point? What's that?

I was just thinking about one of the weirdest moments of last summer, which was in itself a weird, weird summer.

I've been on a jeans-buying quest lately, which is an event, and I have a couple of pairs that I've been trying on tonight for lack of anything better to do. (That's not true, there's plenty of better I could be doing. Let me rephrase that to "lack of any motivation to do anything better.") All of my outfit changing reminded me of the weird moment of last summer. There's your preface.

So I was trying on outfit after outfit in my little walk-up in Philly last July, there was no air conditioning and very little air circulation, and there was a guy I hardly knew typing on my AIM screen name to another guy I hardly knew. So guy number one, Jeff, was my age and from Strasburg; I'd met him in the coffee shop a couple of months before. Anyway, Jeff was visiting Philly and had slept the night before in a public park in Center City. I gave him shelter for a few hours; we got Chinese food and watched "Sweet Home Alabama," because I wanted Chinese and Jeff said he liked girly movies. I was planning on hanging out later that evening with the guy on the other side of the AIM conversation, Dominic, and as I tried on many different pairings of shirts, jeans, and skirts, Jeff typed to Dominic and said obnoxious things. I kept trying to bat him away from the computer, especially when he told Dominic that I was changing my clothes repeatedly (in another room, incidentally. This was not a peep show for random near-stranger Jeff). We were fighting over the computer like bickering siblings, and part of me really wanted to get him the hell out of my apartment. I also felt sorry about kicking him out, because that would mean he'd be sleeping on a park bench for the second night in a row. Then again, did I really want to give floorspace to a guy who willingly sleeps on park benches?

Um. So that was random. Eventually I settled on an outfit, Jeff sought out a park bench, and Dominic bought me some fries in a bar in his neighborhood.

On another note entirely and now in the present, what the hell is up with the denim mania at the mall? Is this happening everywhere? Suddenly the salespeople are all pushing the jeans, offering ridiculous amounts of help on picking a rise, size, rinse, and fit. At Express, a male employee who was obviously new and eager to please asked me what brought me out shopping that day. You know, he seemed like a nice enough fellow, but I didn't want to make small talk. Especially about my shopping motives. I wonder, if I had told him how little money I make, would he have discouraged me from spending it? Surely not!

And at American Eagle... Jesus, I don't know if I can ever face going back there. The salesdude was painfully excited to help me find a pair of jeans. I had but two pairs in my arms when he bounded up and exclaimed, "I see you're buying some jeans!!!" I replied, a little taken aback, "...yes." Then he proceeded to show me all the different types, asked me how I like my jeans to fit, pointed out this ridiculous pair with shreds and holes and embroidery and ribbon and, I don't know, tinsel and christmas lights, and I had to explain that they weren't really my style. I sort of giggled as he continued his spiel- did he have any idea how absurd he seemed? It was a freaking comedy sketch! Fortunately, some unwitting young woman had a genuine question and she pulled him off my ass.

I need an invisibility cloak for when I go shopping. Now that would freak out the pushy salespeople.