As I was attempting putting together a rack of sequined and rhinestoned pajamas, that was mutilated by the herd of 12 year olds that plowed through the store 20 minutes earlier (seriously where the hell are your parents?), I came across a scene that made me a tad irritated. It went something like this…

Two women were standing at the pantie bar (no this isn’t a joke, although it sounds like a joke I would attempt while getting hammered; and for the men who read this-a pantie bar is a large bar shaped table that holds endless amounts of underwear). One was an older lady and the other a middle-aged lady. I had spoken to the middle-aged lady earlier, she was picking out p****** for her 18 year old daughter. I could overhear the older lady telling the middle-aged lady how excited she was that her daughter and granddaughter were coming to visit. After the divorce, she hasn’t seen them since they moved away, blah blah blah, she’s really excited, and she wants to get her granddaughter something “cool” that most grandma’s don’t buy.

The middle-aged woman pointed to the cotton p****** in the older woman’s hands, “Are those for your granddaughter?”
The older woman lit up like a Christmas tree and responded, “Yes!”
“Oh, well, kids these days don’t wear those underwear anymore. Those are for older women, so you should swap those for thongs. Your granddaughter will never wear those.”
You could see the old lady’s eyes droop in disappointment. She looked at the p****** in her hand, and looked back at the mountains of underwear on the table, “Oh…I…I didn’t know that.”
The middle-aged woman responded with, “Yeah, kids wear thongs now”, and handed her a hot pink thong that said Ride Me.
The older woman held the lace in her hand as she looked at it, crinkling her eyebrows together. I chose that moment to step out from behind the masochistic wonderland that is pajamas and hangers tangled together, and approached the two women. “Are you ladies finding everything ok?”
The middle-aged woman smiled at me and said, “Yep, I got everything I need”, and trotted off to the cash register. I looked back at the older woman still holding the naughty string of lace and gently smile at her. She looked back at me and said, “Kids don’t like these?”, and handed me the cotton ones she had already picked out.

I took the string of lace from her and said, “How old is your granddaughter?”
“She’s 11.”
“Ok, well the lady you were talking to, was choosing p****** for her 18 year old, I don’t think she realized you were buying undies for an 11 year old.”
The old lady nodded, and said, “I want to get her something she’ll like.”
I nodded and took the p****** from her. In the end she decided on a combination of p******, three of which she had already picked out, none of which were naughty or thongs, and I’m fairly confident that that little girl will be happy with her gift.

I realize that the middle-aged woman was only trying to help, but seriously, could you not tell when the poor little old ladies face dropped that you completely burst her bubble! THEN you continued to tell her that her choice in p****** was lousy, and she should choose again. All she wanted was to get a gift for her granddaughter that would be different. Her tone was just so harsh, like the little old lady is supposed to know that little girls wear thongs that say Ride Me with a picture of a bike next to the neon wording. Sometimes I just want to slap people…like the kids that ransacked my pajamas display. That took 30 minutes to detangle. Seriously, where the hell are your parents?!?!