April 7 2017
I didn't bring any 'USA-Appropriate' shorts with me on my travels. All my shorts are, well, short. As in, short-short. If I wear them down the street I get so many crazy looks, which seem to say: That guy is exposing his knees, he may as well be walking down the street naked.
It's almost like I'm one of those Victorian ladies getting slut-shamed because they exposed <gasp> their ANKLE!
I was a teenager in the 80s. Make that a teenager in a country town in the 80s. As many teens of that era did, I expressed, even thrived, on my individuality. I am totally used to getting weird looks from people and I couldn't care less what they think.
In fact I had old ladies shaking their cane at me in the street as a teenager, who were horrified that I'd dyed my hair. I pointed out: hey, I'm using the same colour as you are. What's your problem?!
Yet the looks I'm getting while walking around in my short shorts is starting to get my goat, so I venture to the local thrift store to find a pair of shorts that are less short than the rugby league shorts I usually like to get around in (when I'm not at work, of course).
Only slightly less short of course. I just would feel like I was trying to assimilate too hard, if I were to wear shorts that came below my knee. One, because that's just not even comfortable. Two, because I'll end up with some kind of weird half leg tan. Three, I would feel ridiculous wearing shorts that long. And Four, because I don't like long shorts. Back home, we call long shorts 'pants'. Or 'jeans'.
So....
I'm at the Salvation Army thrift store in the men's aisle. There's a woman there with a trolley. She looks like one of those people at the supermarket who fill their trolley up with weird things as an excuse to eat a packet of cookies when nobody is looking.
She nearly bumps into me with her trolley. She apologises, I say, no problem.
Then I start getting annoyed as she always seems to be parking exactly where I want to go. It's not complicated to shop in a thrift store. You start at one end and work your way down to the other. She just seems to keep getting in my way. She's not a guy. What's she even doing in this aisle?
Then she said something really weird.
Can I ask you a question?
Sure, I said.
"Well, I was thinking of jacking a few items today from here, but I'm just not feeling it. Would you mind doing it for me?"
You can probably guess the two letter word I responded with. Quite forcefully*.
Somebody just asked me to shoplift for them. In a charity store. That actually has a storewide discount of 40% on EVERYTHING!
Are people so desperate that they would steal from a charity store? You do realise you're stealing from the poor and needy, right? What is this world coming to??!!
If you're gonna steal clothes, go somewhere where the clothes are expensive. I dunno, try Prada. Or Hugo Boss. Or Commes des Garcon. (Note: I don't advocate stealing, I'm trying to make a point).
Regardless of the craziness, I did find a cool pair of Ocean Pacific corduroy shorts. Possibly from the 1990s. I'm happy because now I have a pair of shorts that I can actually put stuff in the pockets without them falling out. And I won't look like that slutty Victorian woman with the naked ankle.
Of all the dumb questions in the world. Seriously. Why do they ask me to do this nonsense? Is there a hole in my aura that they can see right through? Or am I just approachable and affable enough for people to feel comfortable around me. So comfortable that they would ask me to shoplift for them.
Geez. Get a grip, people.
* In case you couldn't work it out, the word was NO.
#california #inlandempire #hemet #salvationarmy #thriftstore #vintage #shortshorts #corduroy #travel #solotravel #shoplift #shopliftingiswrong #ankleshaming
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