ChrisMerchant's Blog

I walked into the local mercantile last week and discovered, much to my chagrin, that I am not a “demographically normal” person. I’ve always been big. I’m 6’3” or 4” (it’s never really mattered) and I’m a little on the overweight side (that is starting to matter). I know other people who are about the same size and shape as myself, so it never really dawned on me that I was abnormal. My sisters have always told me I was weird. I assumed that it was typical sibling stuff. My ex-wife says I’m quirky, but she mixes her corn and mashed potatoes together. No, I’m really the oddball…
I’m 35, and I’m switching careers do to a screwy sacroiliac. With the exception of a brief period on the radio, trucking has been my life’s work. I tend to approach things with the proverbial “blue-collar” attitude. I wandered into “Omni-Mart” for kitty litter, razors, motor oil, and batteries. I had no intention of buying shoes. I wear a size 16D. Most of the mega-stores don’t carry anything remotely close to this size. Someone compiled a data base that says that says more men have a size “x” this, and size “y” that, and the mega-stores bought it. Allegedly: the fewer the people in the size, the fewer the people to buy that sized item. Occasionally, I find a pair of shoes that might fit with a little stretching. As I checked over the rack marked “13 and up” (incorrect grammar, by the way), I noticed a layer of dust on the shoes that were there.
Dust. As in: these shoes have been here a while. As in: someone over-ordered. As in: these shoes are ugly and men with big feet are discerning. From behind me, I hear “Can I help you?” I turn to the cute young lass and ask “Do you have anything in a 16D?”
Her response was the typical: “No,” followed by “People ask for’em a lot. We can’t keep’em in stock.”
Dust has settled on the size 13’s in the rack. The 16D’s are sold out, save the ugly ones. What marketing genius thought of this? The “average” shoes sit in their boxes gathering dust, while the unusual fly off the shelves. Probably the same one who came up with the idea that the ugly, Velcro closure walking shoes in pale gray vinyl would sell in a size 16D.
I walk away, shaking my head. I gather what I need, happening by the “Mens” area. (Again, another error in signage) The sign above the shirts reads “CLEARANCE RACK $13 EACH BIGGER SIZES $15”. (My mind goes back to Mrs. Hackman’s Senior English class, knowing that she would share my chuckle at yet another error. After all, this is the local outlet for a Fortune 500 ® company.) I wear what is usually labeled an “XLT”. Of late, XLT has become 2XLT. I’m still trying to decide if I’ve added the XL, or if the sizes are getting smaller and procreating on their own to compensate. I know a 3XL covers my person, but it looks funny. The shoulder seams droop down to my elbows, and the chest pocket is lower than my belt. I stop and sift through the shirts on the clearance rack. The larger sizes on this rack consist of “L” and “XL”. “Can I help you?” Here we go again…
“I’m looking for a 2XLT”. Barely a heartbeat passes, and the retiree in the blue vest answers: “We’ve only got what’s on this rack and those two racks over there,” she gestures to my right. “We seem to sell out of that size quickly.” My girlfriend wonders why I don’t like shopping for clothes. I hate the rejection.
I head for the checkout, pondering the cost of surgical vertebrae removal. I stand in the express lane, overhearing the conversation between the cashier and the customer in front of me. “Mam, this isle is the express lane. The sign above you says 13 items or less. You have 18.” The lady in front of me continues to unload her cart, “The sign should read “13 items or fewer”. It’s grammatically incorrect, so I will incorrectly count my 18 as 13.” At last, a kindred spirit! I wonder if she had Mrs. Hackman for Senior English…