Impractical

My first semester back from Portugal, I took 12 hours in school - and did nothing else. Apart from school and sleep, I had no other accounting for the 168 hours given to me each week. One day, my mother suggested I get a job, even one part time - anything that would keep me occupied.

I had little interest in working, even part time (wow, that's still the case) but I filled out some resumes to appease her. I went to the outlet mall one day and walked into random stores that looked kind of cool.

One of them was Brooks Brothers. I was familiar with the store, but only through their advertisements in fashion magazines. As I looked at their clothing, I saw it everything I would ever want out of a full wardrobe - if I only had the money. Then it hit me - hey, what if I worked there? Then I could buy clothes there - at a discount even. So, I filled out an application and took the part time job they offered.

Once I had a few dollars in my pocket, I figured I was old enough to find a roommate and live on my own.

Now, I realize my mother's evil genius - get a job and move out. Well played, Mom.

Within months, it became a full-time position and soon after that became an assistant manager's position. I hated every single minute I spent in that store. Except for when I was buying clothes.

That was over ten years ago and I still have many of the clothes I purchased. Fortunately, preppy never goes out of style.

Fast forward to today. After work, I returned some clothes I got for Christmas to Brooks Brothers and Gap.

When I walked in Gap, I really wasn't in the mood to look around and try on clothes. I went straight to the counter and returned my items for a gift card intending to return when I had more time and patience to try on clothing. But as I was walking out, I saw their sale rack of winter clothing they were trying to get rid of.

One of the items was a woolen pea coat marked from $129 to $39. I grabbed it off the shelf, made sure it fit, and went back to the counter to purchase. At that store, I traded in two shirts for a winter coat. I felt like the kid in that Shel Silverstein poem who started off with a silver dollar and after a series of trades, ends up with five shiny pennies; but the opposite of that.

Next was Brooks Brothers, or my home away from home. I walked in with my Gap bag and sat it down next to the counter while I pulled out my dress shirt I needed to return. I started to look around and not wanting to lug my large bag around, left it near the counter. There weren't that many other shoppers on the store and nobody there looked particularly shady.

There was another gentleman looking at the same table of sweaters as I. A few minutes later, his wife walked in and loudly (and rudely) asked if one of the bags near the window was his; he replied in the affirmative. She asked loudly (and rudely) if just anybody could grab that bag and walk out; again, he replied in the affirmative. We glanced at each other with knowing expressions (the one of just getting a beat down in public) while I pointed out my own bag I left for just anybody to grab and walk out with also.

But back to the story at hand.

I am a sucker for sweaters. I have over thirty of them. That may not seem like a lot (well, yeah it does) but many of them are thick woolen sweaters that get worn but once or twice a year in Texas. Still, I can't resist. And I couldn't tonight. I bought another woolen sweater that was half-price. Another score - trading in a dress shirt for a disgustingly expensive sweater that I won't be able to wear for another nine months.

Now, all I need is an unexpected Arctic-like cold front to come in overnight. Then, I'll really be set.

Until then, I'm just impractical.