I had heard of the horrors of jean shopping, I knew that I would go crazy. The worst thing was that it was Women’s jean shopping. THE WORST! So we sullenly marched into the car. My siblings didn’t seem to know the true terror of it all.
When we got to the store my mouth dropped at the amount of clothes there where; specifically the jeans that we had to go through. It suddenly occurred to me that, I might in fact die in this store.
My mom told us the specific sizes, waist, color, and look of the kinds of jeans she wanted. Then we split up. I knew my odds of making it out of this store where slim.
As my mom was going into the locker to try about 75 new sets of jeans, my mind fizzled.
I realized right then and there I would not get out of this store until I found the perfect pair of jeans. I went on the hunt.
Dressed in uniform I went to interrogate, impersonate, and investigate where the perfect pair of jeans where.
He was helpful. He pointed me to the exact pair I wanted.
I knew I had them. THE PERFICT PAIR OF JEANS!
And this is why I don’t go jean shopping unless the jeans we are searching for are for me, where I don’t have to find the perfect pair. I will just pick up the first pair I see and if it fits then I’m done.