I've figured out over the years that I'm not that much of a fashionista. I'm usually the most casually dressed guy at a wedding, I'm not sure where my dress socks are, and I wear a t-shirt and shorts to work every day (unless it's really cold, then I wear jeans and a hoodie), and one time I forgot to wear shoes. I'll probably be called a sexual predator before I'm called a metrosexual.
Sometimes I go to Victoria's Secret though, to pick out clothes and stuff for my wife, and when I say "stuff" I mean underwear that shows your whole butt (but not your butthole). You'd think this would be a recipe for disaster, and that I'd come home with stuff 8 sizes too big, and garments that were just plain goofy looking, but you'd be wrong.
For some reason, and I haven't quite figured it out yet, Victoria's Secret employees love me, like straight, done-a-bunch-of-ecstacy love. Perhaps it's all about the sale, and these employees are nothing more than clothed prostitutes selling things other than space in their various orifices, but I tend to believe I'm actually really likable because of how naive I act in the presence of hot chicks and skimpy butt huggers.
I've developed a foolproof method for getting help picking out items at Victoria's Secret. It goes like this.
1.) Wander into the store looking overwhelmed, but excited, like you just tripped and fell into a pile of naked ladies.
2.) Grab a pair of underpants and hold them up to a light, like you're trying to see through them. This will let people know that you're serious about being in the store, and you aren't just here to ogle the mannequins.
3.) Look around for an employee that is approximately the same size as my wife. I can't for the life of me ever remember her measurements, the only thing that comes to mind is 4T, and I'm pretty sure that's for my son, and I had a really awkward encounter about 5 years ago at Sears with a chunky sales girl.
Me: I need a blue shirt for a girl.
Chunky Sales Girl: Like a sweater?
Me: No, with buttons and stuff, you know, like a button shirt or whatever...
CSG: Ohhhh Kay. Um, what size is she?
Me: I don't know, is little a size?
CSG: Not really. Is she like me?
Me: Not really. I said little. (This qualifies as one of "those things" that accidentally slips out of my mouth periodically)
CSG: Well, look over there. (Points ambiguously to a large section of the store and angrily stampedes off)
That's why I look for somebody the same size.
4.) When you find her, begin stalking around her looking at items, even if she's in the socks section. Eventually she will ask you if you need help finding something.
5.) I usually reply to this by saying something like, "I need some underpants. For my wife. She's a girl. Like you."
6.) She'll bring me over to the underpants area and ask what size she is. This is one of the only times, outside of the strib club, where it's perfectly acceptable to stare at her goods for a long time, before you reply, "about your size."
7.) Victoria's Secret employees really like this. The girl will then go out of her way to describe various articles of clothing, and why they are or are not sexy. This is fun for everyone. She might even bring other girls over for their opinions. This is the closest I will ever get to one of those "naked slumber parties" with pillow fights and serious girl-on-girl action that I see on Cinemax periodically, so I will milk it for all it's worth.
One note of warning here. Occasionally there is a guy working at Victoria's Secret. If a guy ever comes over and tries to help you, punch him in the crotch as hard as you can and then quickly, and covertly, leave the entire mall. For security purposes, it may be a good idea to never return.
Again, this method is foolproof, if you do it correctly. If it doesn't work for you, you are obviously a gross pervert and you should go directly to jail.
Sometimes I go to Victoria's Secret though, to pick out clothes and stuff for my wife, and when I say "stuff" I mean underwear that shows your whole butt (but not your butthole). You'd think this would be a recipe for disaster, and that I'd come home with stuff 8 sizes too big, and garments that were just plain goofy looking, but you'd be wrong.
For some reason, and I haven't quite figured it out yet, Victoria's Secret employees love me, like straight, done-a-bunch-of-ecstacy love. Perhaps it's all about the sale, and these employees are nothing more than clothed prostitutes selling things other than space in their various orifices, but I tend to believe I'm actually really likable because of how naive I act in the presence of hot chicks and skimpy butt huggers.
I've developed a foolproof method for getting help picking out items at Victoria's Secret. It goes like this.
1.) Wander into the store looking overwhelmed, but excited, like you just tripped and fell into a pile of naked ladies.
2.) Grab a pair of underpants and hold them up to a light, like you're trying to see through them. This will let people know that you're serious about being in the store, and you aren't just here to ogle the mannequins.
3.) Look around for an employee that is approximately the same size as my wife. I can't for the life of me ever remember her measurements, the only thing that comes to mind is 4T, and I'm pretty sure that's for my son, and I had a really awkward encounter about 5 years ago at Sears with a chunky sales girl.
Me: I need a blue shirt for a girl.
Chunky Sales Girl: Like a sweater?
Me: No, with buttons and stuff, you know, like a button shirt or whatever...
CSG: Ohhhh Kay. Um, what size is she?
Me: I don't know, is little a size?
CSG: Not really. Is she like me?
Me: Not really. I said little. (This qualifies as one of "those things" that accidentally slips out of my mouth periodically)
CSG: Well, look over there. (Points ambiguously to a large section of the store and angrily stampedes off)
That's why I look for somebody the same size.
4.) When you find her, begin stalking around her looking at items, even if she's in the socks section. Eventually she will ask you if you need help finding something.
5.) I usually reply to this by saying something like, "I need some underpants. For my wife. She's a girl. Like you."
6.) She'll bring me over to the underpants area and ask what size she is. This is one of the only times, outside of the strib club, where it's perfectly acceptable to stare at her goods for a long time, before you reply, "about your size."
7.) Victoria's Secret employees really like this. The girl will then go out of her way to describe various articles of clothing, and why they are or are not sexy. This is fun for everyone. She might even bring other girls over for their opinions. This is the closest I will ever get to one of those "naked slumber parties" with pillow fights and serious girl-on-girl action that I see on Cinemax periodically, so I will milk it for all it's worth.
One note of warning here. Occasionally there is a guy working at Victoria's Secret. If a guy ever comes over and tries to help you, punch him in the crotch as hard as you can and then quickly, and covertly, leave the entire mall. For security purposes, it may be a good idea to never return.
Again, this method is foolproof, if you do it correctly. If it doesn't work for you, you are obviously a gross pervert and you should go directly to jail.
1 comment:
Excellent idea. I am going to try this next time.
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