The Mixed Up Brains of Lisa Weinstein

Off to The Mall…I Better Bring My Ear Plugs

I need to return a pair of jeans for my 14-year old daughter Melissa, who refused to try them on when we were in the actual store and insisted on buying them and bringing them home.

“It’s no big deal mom,” she reasoned. “If they don’t fit we’ll just return them.”

No big deal for her maybe, she’s not the one who has to make another trip during her precious and limited work lunch hour to the “Land of Wonder for Teenage Girls”. Or, as the old folks call it, “The Mall”.

I set foot inside “The Land of Wonder” and search the directory for a particular business establishment we’ll refer to as the “We’re Going to Encourage Teenage Girls to Use all of Their Senses in Their Decision to Purchase our Clothing” store.

Well, that is quite a long name. Let’s give it another alias. Hey, I know, how about: “The Store”. Yes, that has a nice ring to it.

The directory reveals a long list of shops dedicated to selling skimpy, tiny, small, and revealing shirts and jeans for their eager target market, namely, skimpy, tiny, small, and revealing teenage girls. I find “The Store” on the directory, but soon realize that the map really isn’t necessary, for I can smell “The Store” from three football fields away. My nose is greeted with a nauseating mix of perfume and suntan lotion which grows stronger the closer I get, while my ears are greeted with the “soothing” sounds of hip hop loud enough to please teenagers in "The Store", the mall, across the street, in the next state, throughout the country, in China, Australia, etc…

Outside “The Store”, two soft, cozy armchairs beckon potential shoppers to sit and relax, take in the nauseating fragrance, and listen to the “soothing” hip hop music.

I walk into “The Store” and I am immediately greeted by a salesgirl who looks like a recent kindergarten graduate.

“Hi, we __ hav__ a _sale if you buy __ you __ one __for half _ _ per __.”

 “CAN YOU REPEAT THAT!” I shout over the din of the hip hop tunes.

 “You can get ___ off __ of shirts and __ yes __thank __ so __need ___ help__ percent__ tomorrow__ok?”

 “WHAT?”

 “We are hav__ a __new __yes__today__jeans___tomor___ right? ___help ___see___ok?”

 I give up.

I make my way to the register where the 12 year old manager is waiting on another aggravated looking mom and her excited teen. When it is my turn, I shout, “I NEED TO RETURN THESE JEANS!”

“Would _ like ___ put____store____American____credit___you?”

 “CAN YOU REPEAT THAT PLEASE?”

 “Will this___be___your___express____store____thank__?”

By using an unknown ability to lip read, I manage to discern that he is asking if I want to put the refund on my credit card or if I want store credit.

Hmmmm.

Credit card = money for me

Store credit = clothes for Melissa

I choose me.

As he is pushing the beeping buttons on the register, I am overcome by a sudden desire to speak my mind.

 “YOU KNOW, I UNDERSTAND THAT YOU WANT TO PLAY LOUD MUSIC BECAUSE YOU ARE TRYING TO APPEAL TO YOUR TARGET MARKET, BUT DID YOU KNOW THAT THE PEOPLE WHO PAY FOR THESE CLOTHES ARE THE MOTHERS OF YOUR TARGET MARKET,” I explain, drawing on my years of marketing experience. “AND WE DON’T LIKE THE LOUD MUSIC!”

My mini-tirade is met with a blank stare.

 Sigh.

 He hands me back my credit card and I hustle out of the store, barely noticing that the kindergartener is saying, “Thank_ come__ two__ percent ___ see___ sale___tomorrow___ notice___you___bye.”

I rush back through the mall, longing to go into that bastion of fun for old fuddy duddy dames like me, “The Department Store”. But alas, my journey into “The Store” has taken all of my time. I must get back to work. Shopping for professional garb would have to wait.

Later that evening, Melissa grills me.

“Did you return my jeans?”

“Yes, I did,” I reply.

“Oh, thanks mom.” Pause. Pause. “Y’know, I still need to get new jeans. Can we go back to the mall on Saturday?”

“Only if you let me take some time to shop for shoes,” I demand.

She rolls her eyes and begrudgingly agrees.

Great.

Another trip to “The Store”.

I’d better get my ear plugs now.

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