Sarah got back from Queen's (finally) and we celebrated by going shopping, because really is there a better way for two people who go comfort shopping on a regular basis to hang out? Didn't think so. What better mall could there have been for us to go to than Sherway Gardens.
We spent a lot of time just talking about things that we had already talked about a million times over the past two weeks but we some how managed to make it fun anyways. The thing about shopping when you shop as much as the two of us do is that you're not actually there to try and buy something nice anymore. No, we've already purchased almost anything that's worth purchasing. Instead we go and make fun of people while trying to find something more to purchase. It's not our fault that we've managed to have the act of being mean down to an art form.
I spent much of the time there complaining about how there was nothing worth buying. I've stopped going into stores like Banana Republic and Gap because they're just not worth my time. Hell, Holt Renfrew is hardly worth my time but I go in anyways because it's Holt Renfrew and to go to Sherway Gardens and not go into Holt Renfrew is like a sin.
A disgusting thing to note: We did go into American Eagle, and I did edge their graphic tees. Sarah needed a brown graphic tee in a medium. They only had smalls and extra smalls on the floor. Eventually some guy wearing a roccawear shirt that was 3 sizes too big went to get more brown tees. Instead of checking for the medium, he dropped a huge pile of them, told us if there's a medium it would be in this large pile, and walked away. Nice work. Sometimes I wonder why people don't get fired. So I went through all the shirts, piled them properly and told them they had no more mediums.
Over the day I there were a few conclusions that I came to. First, I need to stop talking about people because they'll inevitably show up thirty minutes later. Here's how I'm backing this one up. Sarah and I some how got on the topic of Western which lead to talking about James. How we got on the topic of Western is long forgotten; something about people going there to learn how to strip or something. So of course it would only make sense that while we're looking for sizes in American Eagle I look up to see James.
My second conclusion was that I am incapable of communicating with people. When James walked in the store instead of saying, "Hey look it's James! Isn't it ironic that we see him?" I just stand there and say "James. James. James" over and over again leaving Sarah to think that I finally have cracked and I'm lost in a sea of extra small graphic tees. So this leads me to my new slogan for the day: Don't communicate, fornicate.
I LOVE YOU MIKE WHOO