There comes a time in a person’s life when they find comfort in the select stores they frequent.

 
For me, I am in my element at the grocery store, looking through vintages at the LCBO and finding a hidden treasure at Winners.

 
That’s really it.

 
I don’t like shopping anywhere else.

 
I went to an outlet mall the other night so I could find myself an outfit and thought it would be a quick and easy find.

 
I walked into the first store and the music was blaring. It was so loud, I started to squint and look at the other shoppers like, “Are you hearing this? Have we sent someone to see about turning this down or do you want me to say something?” As the new person on the scene, I didn’t want to step on any toes but I wanted to be sure we were all on the same page.

 
The next store was all Pitbull All-The-Time. It wasn’t offensive, I just didn’t know what my role was in all of this. A part of me wanted to dance but I had to stay focused on finding a dress. Was this the store’s secret way of informing me, “If it’s too loud or you can’t keep it together, you’re too old. We don’t want you wearing our doilies.” (A doily is a lacy mat for a plate and are a huge trend in dresses right now)

 
I walked into the next store and I wasn’t sure where I was. The name on the sign was written in a cursive font I’m not familiar with. I actually found a dress I liked and when I looked at it with both eyes at the same time, a sales person appeared from her invisible cables, suspended high above unsuspecting shoppers so she could quickly land when it looked like someone might want to try something on.

 
She immediately said, “Shall I put that in a change room for you?” unhooking the clasp from the back of her neck.

 
Sure, I guess. I really wasn’t sure what my options were. If I walked out the door it would be funny but so weird.

 
I heard a woman say to another woman, “Oh, I love your shoes.” So I said, “Oh thanks, they’re Crocs” and chuckled to myself about my gardening shoes which are neither fashionable nor free from chunks of mulch but man are they comfortable! They did not see the humour in the sad lady missing her hydrangeas and hot cup of tea.

 
I slunk into the change room knowing I had no intention of buying this dress but the girl in this mystery store either “Ya-Ya’s” or “No-No’s” depending on the angle you were reading the sign was hovering outside the room.

 
When I opened the door BECAUSE THERE WERE NO MIRRORS INSIDE THE CLOSET I WAS CHANGING IN, there she was, like a best friend I chose not to take shopping with me, “Oh that looks great.” I pointed out a few areas of concern (avoiding the obvious one—the price). She said, “Well that will be taken care of with the right under garments.” Exactly I thought. What the hell are the RIGHT under garments? I’m thinking wearing some at all should get me at least a couple of points around this place. Do the right undergarments come with a time machine to 1987?

 
Now it seemed like the music from all of the stores was following me into the centre walkway like a tsunami of loud and I couldn’t stay focused. I missed Winners, I missed my groceries, I missed my ipad Scrabble.

 
I came home empty handed which was to be expected.

 
Chloe yelled, “Mommy, show us your new dress!”

 
I said, “I didn’t buy anything tonight guys.”

 
Greg said, “Told you.”