Shopping as a Single Woman

Shopping as single woman is really, really obnoxious. Maybe it's because the wounds are still so fresh, or because I hate love in general. Either way, everywhere I looked today at the mall, I was assaulted by reminders that I do not have a boyfriend.

Or a heart.

Or a life.

During the holidays.

Also, as a sidenote, I am certainly not helping matters by being a perpetual klutz. Men are so going to be attracted to a girl who, in an attempt to escape the Seacret Spa kiosk (you know the one, where a suave looking dude assaults you with his accent and promises of free samples and then, next thing you know you're standing by yourself holding a $50 nail kit you didn't need) turns away and veers into the nearest store only to run into their "Christmas Deals" sign. I'm pretty bad ass like that.

Also, you should see me eat- it's like watching a pack of wolves tear apart a piece of meat.

Anyway.

As I'm walking through the mall, I see happy couples holding hands. Hate them. I completely and totally loathe them. I really do. I could feel myself starting to sweat (another lovely thing that happens to me when I'm nervous or upset).

Then I passed the jewelry stores. Inside one of them, a shy looking guy was perusing the necklaces- for his girlfriend, no doubt. Asshole. The next one was giving away free cuddly looking bears with a purchase. I had a momentary urge to run in and tear the heads off the bears and scream at the shoppers that this is what love REALLY does to a person.

To fight that urge, I went to my favorite clothing store for a little respite. This would have been fine, except the first store associate to come my way to greet me was a large, good-looking man. I know I had a wild stare in my eyes (internally I was screaming, "IS NOTHING FUCKING SACRED ANYMORE????? A MAN WORKING IN MY STORE???") and he looked like he regretted having to approach me to tell me about the store's current deals.

Our relationship was short lived. He was just too pretty for me, and I think I was too homicidal-looking for him (also, I may have had a red spot on my cheek from walking into the sign). We parted on good terms; I bought a necklace and pointed him out when the cashier asked if anyone had helped me with my shopping.

But I need to tell you about the kicker. I went to my second favorite clothing store and made it past TWO male associates (what the fuck is the deal??) without ripping their balls off (I need them for my Christmas tree, see) and started rifling through clothing racks looking for something pretty to make myself feel better about being a dumped, lonely, heartbroken mess. Being a lover of black clothing, I grabbed at a slinky looking black shirt.

This is what I pulled out:



Really? REALLY?? The only reason I didn't throw it across the store and head to the Irish pub conveniently located near the food court is that I felt taking a picture and blogging about it later would be entertainment for those not suffering from the devastation of a broken heart.

Also, I was considering designing my own t-shirts. Some slogans I came up with while waiting five hours in line to buy two black shirts (with no stupid Bedazzled lettering, thankyouverymuch) are:

"My Ex-Boyfriend Was a Dick and So Are You."

"No Thanks, I'm Asexual."

"I Collect Men's Testicles for my Christmas Tree."

"Facebook Ruined My Life."

I think these would sell quite well. Surely I am not the only angry man hater in the world... right?