Friday, July 01, 2005
Showdown at The Men's Warehouse
I went to The Men's Warehouse yesterday to get fitted. When I walked in I was greeted by a girl who asked if she could help me. I told her what I wanted. Then it got ugly.
Girl 1 (to Girl 2): Susan, can you help him?
Girl 2: I'm busy doing something in the back.
Girl 1: Well I'm with another customer.
Girl 2: Well I'm busy.
Girl 1: I'm serious.
Girl 2: So am I!
Girl 1: Ugh.
Then they walked away in different directions.
Me: ...?
The guy working told me to go wait in back, and someone would be with me in a minute. When I got to the back, there was another guy standing around. The chairs were occupied by loads of kids, who were extra squirmy in their little tuxes. Then another guy walked in to be fitted. So there we were. No chairs, no magazines, and no help. Momentarily, I flipped through a catalogue of tuxedos, but I couldn't even feign interest. Then the fight broke out.
From the back room, we heard Girl 1 and Girl 2 yelling at each other. I couldn't really make out what they were saying, but I imagined it went like this:
Girl 1: You suck.
Girl 2: No, you do.
Girl 1: Seriously, you suck.
Girl 2: I'm serious. You suck seriously.
Us guys looked around awkwardly. The kids squirmed more. Then it went silent in the back. A minute later Girl 1 emerged, her eyes ruddy. She lined us up and picked us off one at a time, and didn't pretend to be happy about it. The joker ahead of me, who was a tragic hipster in giant aviators, didn't know any of the names in the wedding party, and she put him in his place: 'How the hell am I supposed to put you in the system, man?!'
It was all I could've hoped for from a TMW visit, short of meeting George Zimmer.
I went to The Men's Warehouse yesterday to get fitted. When I walked in I was greeted by a girl who asked if she could help me. I told her what I wanted. Then it got ugly.
Girl 1 (to Girl 2): Susan, can you help him?
Girl 2: I'm busy doing something in the back.
Girl 1: Well I'm with another customer.
Girl 2: Well I'm busy.
Girl 1: I'm serious.
Girl 2: So am I!
Girl 1: Ugh.
Then they walked away in different directions.
Me: ...?
The guy working told me to go wait in back, and someone would be with me in a minute. When I got to the back, there was another guy standing around. The chairs were occupied by loads of kids, who were extra squirmy in their little tuxes. Then another guy walked in to be fitted. So there we were. No chairs, no magazines, and no help. Momentarily, I flipped through a catalogue of tuxedos, but I couldn't even feign interest. Then the fight broke out.
From the back room, we heard Girl 1 and Girl 2 yelling at each other. I couldn't really make out what they were saying, but I imagined it went like this:
Girl 1: You suck.
Girl 2: No, you do.
Girl 1: Seriously, you suck.
Girl 2: I'm serious. You suck seriously.
Us guys looked around awkwardly. The kids squirmed more. Then it went silent in the back. A minute later Girl 1 emerged, her eyes ruddy. She lined us up and picked us off one at a time, and didn't pretend to be happy about it. The joker ahead of me, who was a tragic hipster in giant aviators, didn't know any of the names in the wedding party, and she put him in his place: 'How the hell am I supposed to put you in the system, man?!'
It was all I could've hoped for from a TMW visit, short of meeting George Zimmer.
