Don’t Talk To Strangers

Yesterday my mom invited me to tag along with her to the fabric store. Because I put a LOT of effort into procrastinating, I chose to go out rather than stay home and study like a good girl would (NOTE: I’m blogging, I’m still not studying). This turned into a whole day event because you can never go to just one fabric store, OH NO! You must go to THREE. Ok, so one was totally my suggestion, because again, I need to procrastinate.

So, we get to the store I had suggested and I am looking at some sock monkey fabric and this random woman comes up and screams in my ear, “THEY HAVE SOCK MONKEY FABRIC!”. You know those V-8 commericals where they slap people in the head? I had a mental image of something similar, although I would’ve slapped her with a bolt of fabric. So I left the aisle and went up to the clearance section. When I came back down this random woman goes, “Did you see her shirt?!” I was wearing a t-shirt with an appliqued flower on it, and this woman goes “can I see your shirt?”. Because I’m not a total jerk, I said yes. Apparently she needed to braille it out, because the next thing I know she has her hand on my chest touching said flower. Yo, chief, look with your eyes not with your hands on my boobs. She started telling me some story about craft camp, and I ended up walking away. I was too creeped out.

Lesson of the day: Don’t talk to strangers. Especially not when you are out with your mom and she wanders away so she can stand in another aisle and point and laugh at you. Also, strangers might molest you in the fabric store next to the nursery prints and that’s 37 kinds of wrong.