Sunday, September 13, 2009
Stopped by the local LLBean today. I haven't bought anything from The Bean in years, except wool socks and hiking boots. Most of their women's clothing usually looks like something my Grandma would wear. However, it seems they're trying to revamp their style a bit.
They had some great fleeced-lined hoodies and non-Grandma sweaters. All the salespeople in the clothing section were very nice and helpful.
They even had some trendier shoes that my daughter wanted for school (they have a uniform dress code, so we're talking brown or black flat shoes).
The shoe department was not busy, yet it took an Act of God to get waited on. Every time I'd try and flag down one of the clerks, I was met with an annoyed, sing-songy, "I'll be with you in a MINute.".
A half an hour later....
We finally get waited on, the saleslady brings out a size eight. Too small. We ask for an eight and a half. The saleslady actually made that disgusted "Tck" noise, rolled her eyes, sighed, then said "We don't carry those in half-sizes.". Read: "You're really stupid and wasting my time, I hope you know."
"Well, how about a size NINE then." I said.
She brings out a size nine in a wacky looking blue and yellow, instead of the brown. And no explanation.
"Oh boy. The school won't allow this color." my daughter says, politely.
"I thought you could use them for size comparison." says Snooty Face, oozing disdain.
I'm thinking, you don't have the brown shoes in a size nine, so what exactly am I supposed to be comparing, other than the vile color scheme? I assume we were supposed to see if the nines fit, then order them online, in brown. Possibly. Who knows? She never articulated that. She just rolled her eyes.
Okay, so if you don't have the nines in brown, and I KNOW the eights don't fit, well then, duh, I'm going to go online and order the next size up. Guess what? That would be a NINE!!
By the way, this was a middle-aged woman of about 50, not a cranky, put-upon teen.
This is freakin' LLBean. Itchy wool, plaid skirted, flannel-wearing, Grandma-pants, LLBean.
I'm not trying to flag down a size nine pair of jewel-encrusted Blahniks at the Short Hills Neiman-bloody-Marcus.