guilt

This afternoon, I had to buy a gift certificate for a bat mitzvah we're going to tomorrow. I was planning to get it at Target, but my husband, who apparently has his finger on the pulse of today's youth, told me that was a stupid idea and suggested I go to Abercrombie & Fitch instead.

Dutiful wife that I am, that's what I did. Holy shit! That place is evil. Never mind that the lighting is so low that you can't see the merchandise. Never mind that the music was playing so loud the salesperson--some asshole dude who I know was thinking he was so cool for working there--kept saying to me, "What was that?"

All that annoyance just means I'm an old lady. The thing that really chapped my ass is that they're selling a tee-shirt that says, "Eat, Drink, Be Blonde." I mean, seriously: WTF? How is that okay? That tee-shirt right there represents so much of what's wrong with this country.

But the thing is, I didn't leave the store when I saw that. I stayed, and I bought the gift certificate--partly because I didn't have a lot of time and had to get something right then, and partly because I thought my boycotting wasn't going to make a lick of difference. Which is the worst line of thinking, right? Why vote? Why recycle?

I'm guilting my brunette self to death over this one, not even kidding. I should have walked.