Raining bitches and douchebags

It's raining like hell today. Roads are flooding and accidents are keeping people locked in traffic. Against my better judgment, I head over to the local mall to look for some things for my apartment. I have yet to find curtains I like and I'm still searching for nice pillows for my couch.

I go to Pottery Barn and don't find what I set out for but find something worthwhile all the same. After finally getting the attention of a store rep while the rest remain firmly entrenched in setting up the new Halloween offerings (jeez, people, it's still August), I buy my selection.

My debit card has an image of the college I attended.

Clerk: "Did you graduate from that school?"
Me: "Yes, I did."
(one point awarded for observation skills not entirely lacking)
Clerk: "And you didn't stay there?"
Me: *eyebrow raise* "No, I decided to branch out a little."

What the hell? Stay there? Uh, yeah ... whatever.

Scratching my head, I make my way over to Macy's to look at curtains. As I wander through the housewares, I manage to make my way into the most tomblike and somber area of the store. There's furniture and home furnishings all around but nary a soul to be seen.

I pass a service desk where two women are posted. For the sake of brevity, I'll call them Bitch 1 and Bitch 2.

Bitch 1: "May I help you?"
Me: "Yes, I'm looking for curtains." I point over to where I think there are some curtains hanging.
Bitch 1: "We don't have curtains."
Macy's. No curtains? Is she kidding? Even if the online selection is wider than the store, they have curtains. Maybe they're not in this area, but somewhere they have curtains.
Me: "Really? OK, thanks."
Bitch 2: "Have you tried J C Penney? They have some nice curtains."
Me: "Been there." Forgive me, O great ones, for trespassing on thine hallowed ground of outdated and cheap veneer furniture.
Bitch 2: "What about Pottery Barn? They have some nice curtains there, too."
Me: *holding up Pottery Barn bag* "I looked there, too."

All this time, Bitch 1 has been staring at me as though I'm going to try to sneak a dining table into my bag and run off.

Good Lord! I know I look a sight having come in out of the rain, but I don't look like trouble. Fine, Macy's, if you don't want my money I'm not going to make an effort.

I'm a little bugged about that brush-off, so I make my way to Victoria's Secret. What can I say? A chance to regain a little sauciness helps.

I look around, disappointed I hit the store in between seasons when there's very little selection. While I'm perusing some undies, three guys walk up to a store employee nearby.

Dude: "Where can I get an application?"

Alright, dude, I know from how you're dressed you're not looking for a stockroom job. I also know you brought your buddies with you to prove you have the balls to ask for the application. My best guess is he likes the thought of an employee discount to keep his womens in lacy drawz. Good luck, douchebag.

Whatever is falling from the sky is making people weird.